


looking for forgiveness (i ran into your madness)

by lesbiansasuke



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto), Canon-Typical Violence, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Bonding (Naruto), Dai-nana-han | Team 7 as Family (Naruto), Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Psychological Torture, Uchiha Itachi Has Issues, Uchiha Massacre, Uchiha Sasuke Has Issues, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, mentioned Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiansasuke/pseuds/lesbiansasuke
Summary: Unhinged and far too observant for his own good, Sasuke felt like he was never truly in control of his life. And the more secrets he uncovers that are intertwined with Konohagakure’s machinations, the more he questions everything around him and in turn the endless conflict and shinobi system that enables it.It’s a gradual process filled with trial and error but Sasuke and the rest of Team 7 slowly learn to release the shackles Konohagakure tightened on them. Unhealthy codependency ensues. Suspicion arises. And nothing will ever be the same.
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 46
Kudos: 200





	1. languor

Itachi Uchiha was a mass murderer, a wretched blight, a _clan killer._

Amaterasu’s flames would strike down upon him with a vengeance; at least that’s what his mother (who used to read him tales of the Uchiha lore when he couldn’t sleep and tuck him into bed) used to say about those that harm family, kin, _clan._

Disoriented, his hands that clasped tightly onto the sword that had just slashed his parents (“Itachi, you truly are a kind child”) shook as the weapon coated with the same blood that flowed through his veins clattered to the floor. He gripped Sasuke (younger brother, _my everything)_ and locked eyes with him, dragging his innocent soul into the depths of the rotten Tsukiyomi.

He knew the Sasuke that woke up from this would not be the same one that asked him for piggy back rides, to train together as soon as he returned from missions, who bragged to Shisui with a pout about how _big brother Itachi is the best-_

Something deep within Itachi _broke._

He too would never be the same. 

And as the pad of his fingers trailed the leaf insignia, now bearing a horizontal slash, that was once again wrapped around his forehead securely, he breathed. 

And ran.

* * *

_“Run and cling to your pitiful life!”_

Sasuke Uchiha clenched his eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out the taunting voice of That Man (“ _brother, why?”)._ As he stared at the academy walls in front of him vacantly, Sasuke wondered if it would have been better to have been slain with the rest of his family. Itachi was right—he _was_ pathetic, running away like a spineless coward rather than avenging his fallen clan.

He would prove him wrong. He would prove everyone wrong, those in the village who reluctantly stared at his revenge driven mindset in wariness, wondering when he too would ‘snap under the pressure’. They didn’t understand. Nobody did. Sasuke Uchiha was nothing without revenge, without a _goal_ in sight. He would crumble under the weight of expectations placed upon him as the last Uchiha, directing his hopelessness and rage at himself only until he ceased to exist, a soul unable to ever rest in peace.

So he worked on his taijutsu katas hours into the night until his muscles screamed at him to rest, until he collapsed from sheer exhaustion, barely capable of dragging himself into his bed. Burn scars littered his hands from countless Grand Fireball Jutsus, perfecting everything his family had taught him before he was left alone. Everything the academy covered in lessons, he mastered until he could complete in his sleep, including academics, anything he could get his hands on. Soon enough, the intense training showed results; he was dubbed ‘Rookie of The Year’ for his flawless grades. 

As faceless classmates congratulated him and a gaggle of girls fawned over him once he received a hitai-ate, all he could think was how _this wasn’t enough._

Itachi was deep in the shadows of ANBU at twelve and Sasuke only just graduated from the academy. He understood that they were in peacetime and early graduation was no longer acceptable due to the ‘ _mental strain’_ it left on children (What a load of bullshit. He noticed those non-clan children who outperformed in classes that disappeared as soon as a semblance of attention was placed on them) ever since the massacre took place. But couldn’t he have been an exception? He was so far behind Itachi there was no way he could even land a scratch on him.

So to be placed on a team with the deadlast and a kunoichi with no muscle mass visible on her bony arms was a slap to the face. Was the Third Hokage fucking with him? Sasuke scoffed—that old man was getting senile in his age.

“Iruka-sensei, why does an extraordinary ninja like me have to be on the same team as _him_?” Deadlast obnoxiously whined.

Closing his eyes in exasperation, Sasuke refrained from massaging his forehead from the absurd noise level that came from such a small menace. Zoning out Sakura berating Naruto and Iruka reprimanding him, all he could think was That Man calling him weak over and over again.

* * *

Kakashi Hatake was not taking his job seriously—this Sasuke noticed immediately. The lackadaisical way he carried himself was certainly a form of deception to be underestimated, even so, Sasuke could feel the thrum of power emanating from him (like Him) and while the half lidded eyes watching him unimpressively never sharpened throughout his introduction, he also never took his eyes off him. It was safe to say he was cataloging his body language, the fists scrunched up reliving the flash of his parent’s corpses under His feet.

Sasuke was aware he possibly wasn’t mentally sound—his mother used to jokingly say insanity ran in the family—but he wasn’t a _flight risk._ He was in control of his actions. Besides, if the higher ups were so concerned they should have at least tried to help him once he realised everyone he ever loved and cared for was buried six feet under instead of shoving him back in his empty compound that now resembled a ghost town and smelled of dried blood with red stains in the living room, still visible no matter how much he scrubbed the floorboards until he could no longer feel his nails chipped and his fingers raw. The Hokage didn’t even give him the decency of planning the funeral after he was released from the hospital, choosing to have it during his two week coma.

Of course Sasuke would never admit that out loud; the Uchiha pride certainly didn’t skip a generation. 

No closure, no form of ever moving on from the tragedy that now defined his existence. Sasuke’s mind was relentlessly torn apart with screams and visions of clansmen begging for mercy as a thirteen-year-old ended their existence without a blink of an eye, red decorating the walls, the same colour as the night sky. Every waking second, even during his sleep, was agony and although it became slightly more bearable throughout the years, the eye bags spoke for themselves. 

If Itachi’s goal was destroying his psyche irreparably he passed with flying colours, Sasuke thought morbidly to himself.

Once Kakashi finished reciting his instructions for the second test they would be taking to become ‘actual genins’, Naruto jumped up and pivoted his body towards their pink-haired teammate. “Hey, Sakura. Let’s eat ramen together!”

Absentmindedly, he watched her ruthlessly reject Naruto, noticing his smile slide off his face for a split second only to return at full force, blindingly albeit strained. Before he could also get asked the same question, Sasuke swivelled and sauntered away, ignoring the way his chest panged at the dejected expression that didn’t suit the blond at all.

None of his business. None of his damn business. 

Better to keep them within a safe distance instead of getting hurt again once they leave him too or betray him the same way He did. Call him paranoid—he wasn’t taking any chances, not when the man that haunted his dreams could easily return and sever any new relationships he forms with minimal effort. Sasuke was too weak to contemplate focusing on distracting pleasantries such as _friends_. As long as nothing hindered his goal, he would be fine.

He had years of experience being alone after all.

* * *

A test about teamwork was such a colossal joke to Sasuke he didn’t even know where to start. That Man killed everyone who resided in the largest clan in Konoha single handedly. He snuffed out the flames gifted to them by Amaterasu that fuelled their strong emotions. If this ridiculous village wanted him to cooperate they should have given him teammates worth working together with.

The way Hatake stared down at him disinterestedly was _aggravating—_ he wasn’t being taken seriously! The slip of control on his composure as a spark of rage caused him to leap forward and attack only to be disengaged immediately was _humiliating._ How could he ever face Itachi if a jounin could take him down with minimal effort? Was his endless hours of training worthless, amounting to nothing? The humiliation however was a reminder that he was nowhere near reaching his goal. If this weird, mask-wearing jounin could help him grow stronger he would take the opportunity. 

Sasuke truly didn’t know what compelled him to feed his teammate. Perhaps because he knew Naruto wouldn’t be capable of fighting to steal the bells with him on an empty stomach, maybe because the sight of the idiot looking so glum stirred a strange feeling inside of him. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the cheeky grin aimed at him as he cocked his head to the side in embarrassment, flushing slightly eased the rigid tension in his shoulders and left him feeling lightheaded.

His thoughts unintentionally travelled to their unexpected clash of lips on the day of the team assignment and _woah, okay erase that from your mind, Sasuke, what the fu-_

He indignantly ignored the pink dusting the Uzumaki’s cheeks as he took a bite and Haruno’s instant imitation, cooing about how her ‘Sasuke was so generous, shannaro!’

And thus possibly the most dysfunctional, eccentric team 7 to exist since the sannin was created. 

* * *

“Hey bastard!” Naruto yelled, jogging to catch up with Sasuke, both on their way to the training ground Hatake told them to wait at.

“What?”

“You know, I don’t know why Sakura likes you so much. You’re so boring, you barely talk and you’re constantly brooding.”

_Wow, talk about rude._

“I’m not trying to be rude!” he exclaimed, flailing his hands panickedly as Sasuke’s expression darkened. “I just don’t get why everyone likes you so much. You’re nothing special. It’s kinda annoying.”

Even though this was clearly Naruto’s stupid attempt at small talk, Sasuke seriously gave the idiot’s words some thought. A heavy silence hung over them ominously as Sasuke contemplated how to respond. A few seconds—or possibly a minute as Sasuke tended to stew over his thoughts for a long time—passed and he softly replied without any of his usual scorn, “I don’t know why either.”

Sometimes he wished people would just leave him alone to the overbearing thoughts swirling in his mind. Most times he wished he had someone who _understood_ him. Did anyone truly know what it felt like to be betrayed and tortured by the person you loved the most, by the person you thought loved you, only to find out it was all a lie? Loss was common in the life of shinobi but dammit Sasuke was _angry!_ There was always a sense of pity in the villagers’ stares as they whispered about the massacre of his clan like it was the latest gossip—and the worst part was that it _was._ It hurt how the intense trauma he underwent was regarded as simply a tragedy that has befallen their village, only to ever be mentioned again in fervent whispers filled to the brim with fraudulent sympathy.

What happened to the glorious, ancestral lineage thought to have dated back to the Sage himself they shared with the Senju? What happened to being one of the founding clans of Konoha? The history books only skimmed through the Uchiha history yet gave particular attention to Madara Uchiha, the traitor who abandoned his Hokage as if that was all that mattered when he clearly abandoned the clan too. Where was the history of Kagami Uchiha, the true pride of the Uchiha?

Yet the devotion to the Senju was bordering fanatical. There was clear favouritism in the placement of Hokage, where when Uchiha produced exceptional shinobi they were ignored in favour of a Senju-taught student, an example being Hiruzen Sarutobi. Uchiha were not even seen as an option. Sasuke wondered if they thought an Uchiha Hokage would be as insane as Madara. Ha! As long as the person they loved the most was alive they would be fine… probably.

The truth was that nobody truly cared about his clan except for a few shinobi after all. All that mattered was the loss of manpower. The Sharingan was capable of destruction so vast, for it to be wiped out of existence except for a young child was inconceivable to many. The disappearance of the Konoha Police Force as well led to a surge in criminality, not that anyone in this accursed village would admit it. The Uchiha tended to stay within their fairly small circle of friends, their stoic demeanour making them seem unapproachable and snobbish.

Naruto blinked, owlishly.

Cursing silently once he realised he had become lost in his musings, Sasuke sped up his strides to get away from the idiot that brought up insecurities he would rather keep in the box of ‘shit I ignore until I forget.’ Yes, that included his burgeoning inferiority complex.

Luckily, Uzumaki had some tact and wisely chose to not bring the topic up again, lest he’s reminded of what Sasuke’s fist against his cheek feels like, courtesy of the numerous times academy instructors pitted them against each other during taijutsu spars. He cracked his knuckles and cackled manically. That sounded _perfect._

Beside him, Naruto shuddered and edged away.

Sakura’s entire face lightened up at the sight of him, gasping with child-like glee in her eyes. It made him want to look away. That innocence on her face was a reminder of everything he once was like before That Day.

He remembered her callous words about Naruto’s orphan status and inwardly grimaced

“Sasuke! Good morning,” she chirped, sliding up against his right side with controlled finesse, not too close to touch but not too far away to maintain decent distance.

He grunted in reply—giving her a verbal response would make her act out more and he was good at learning from past experiences.

Minutes turned into hours as a comfortable yet somewhat stifling silence descended upon the trio in favour of waiting for their sensei to arrive. None of them were particularly close. Sasuke was purposefully keeping a distance, Naruto only had a puppy crush on Sakura and despised Sasuke for garnering the most attention that he felt was rightfully his. He probably didn’t know anything about Sakura beyond how pretty she was.

“Hello, my new cute little genin,” a deep familiar voice greeted them, appearing suddenly with a shunshin.

“You’re late!” Naruto and Sakura chorused with faux rage, mostly annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. You see, an old lady asked me to help her with her groceries and you know how much of an upstanding citizen I am as a respectable jounin of Konoha–”

“Liar!” 

Sasuke’s eye twitched. 

“Anyways, let’s start our first D-rank.”

Slumping forward uncharacteristically as their blond teammate raved on about the potential specifics of their tasks, Sasuke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what D-ranks entailed thanks to his mother’s stories of her own genin team. Hatake eye smiled at him sadistically, somehow guessing his current thought process.

How exciting.

* * *

Something about Sasuke not many people knew was that he _noticed._

Sasuke noticed the glares and sneers that followed Uzumaki.

Sasuke noticed Haruno’s stomach rumbling at odd times and the small portions she would subject herself to eating.

Sasuke noticed the way Hatake’s eyes would glaze over at the deadlast, looking through him as if he was watching someone else.

He also noticed the uncanny similarities his teammate bore with a certain Minato Namikaze, photos withering in his mother’s scrapbook of her career as a kunoichi. 

It was a coping mechanism he built to remind himself that he was safe and not back at the compound at seven-years-old with tears streaming down his face and eyes widened in horror at the brutality no child should witness. He would remember the seemingly forgettable faces of children that suspiciously disappeared, he would remember that he never got to burn the bodies of his family and he knew every face and name of the girls that harassed him day in and out, no matter how irrelevant and faceless they were.

Sasuke unknowingly followed the words of his elder brother who ran his hand through his silky hair and told him to, _“always pay attention, Sasuke.There is always more going on than you realise. This is also how I mastered genjutsu to a scale only Shisui can match. Details, seemingly useless minuscule switches in expressions, be it the twitch of an arm, the crease of an eyebrow and the feeling, the atmosphere it evokes will make your opponents question their reality The Sharingan will pick up on it all._ _Nobody but you will look twice at the plain looking girl who sits at the back of your class. Any discrepancies noticed will aid you in creating an illusion so flawless the user will not notice they have already lost. That is the pinnacle of a shinobi’s strength: deception, not the strongest ninjutsu you can create.”_

Despite following a teaching his kin slayer ( _ ~~big brother~~ _) imparted on him, the results of Itachi’s prowess displayed everything there is to see. Sasuke vividly remembered looking up in awe at his lithe body hidden under hard, grey armour, the graceful, almost languid steps he would take, resembling a panther, so sure of the strength he possessed there was no doubt of it at all. And perhaps he overlooked the tremors that would shake through Itachi’s body during dinner in front of Father who would congratulate him on another ANBU mission completed with a prideful “that’s my son,” due to the envious sensation he felt. Perhaps he intentionally ignored the prominent tear-troughs that became more visible the more entrenched in his shinobi career Itachi became, a sign of the unbearable pressure of being heir to a prideful clan with centuries of history and glory attached to their name.

No wonder everyone thought he snapped. 

_Perhaps he did._

But a tiny part of Sasuke’s mind that decreased in volume the longer vengeance clouded his intricate thought process questioned if Itachi’s deception was so interwoven in his life that the deep affection in the softening of his features whenever Sasuke waited for him after a long mission was as carefully crafted as he wanted him to believe. Regardless, whenever that train of thought appeared, Sasuke would shove it into a large box at the back of his mind titled ‘shit about the massacre that doesn’t make sense’ and never open it again—because it was easier to train and grow in strength to avenge the Uchiha’s demise than consider a conspiracy and find out exactly how an entire clan was wiped out in a single night without anybody being notified. ~~Wasn’t it interesting how the Uchiha district was located at the very edge of the village, making Itachi’s plans so much more achievable?~~

The clan looked to Itachi as their shining beacon of hope (and why they obsessed over the strength of a thirteen-year-old so intensely he may never know) and Itachi embodied every expectation flawlessly. That may have been the start of his descent into supposed madness. Sometimes Sasuke thought it was all cleverly crafted bravado. 

Day by day, the cracks of his facade slowly eroded until that fateful moment where he rammed the kunai into the clan emblem displayed proudly on their house out of fury so tightly coiled around him he began releasing spikes of killing intent. Shisui’s death revealed the side of Itachi that must have been reserved only for missions ( ~~the line between mission and clan blurring beyond recognition~~ ).

Sasuke still remembered the words said that day, that rattled something within him at the utter despondency in his tone.

 _"My capacity… I've lost all hope for this pathetic clan...The clan....The clan... All of you without measuring your own capacities had no idea of mine. And now, you lie here, defeated.” His eyes had hardened, covering up any trace of emotion, only stony judgment_.

Itachi was like a grim reaper or a God sealing their fates with a single look. To turn his blessed eyes against his clan hadn’t been heard of since Madara Uchiha, yet there they were spinning hypnotizingly as he took down older clan members with ease.

Father had never looked so disappointed in his elder son before. After all, those expressions were only reserved for the spare, for him.

Sasuke was always under the impression that Itachi was a pacifist with the twinkle in his eyes as he longingly looked at the serene view of the village during peacetime. It felt like he would do anything to protect it. Sasuke snorted bitterly, _clearly not._

Why was he even thinking about this? It wasn’t like it even mattered anymore. Everyone but him was _dead,_ and Itachi was an Uchiha in blood only. He hoped the gods he stopped praying to would curse his brother with the blindness he deserved. Sasuke hadn’t even stepped inside the Naka Shrine since he was seven. Were the gods angry? Technically he was also going to commit a terrible sin—fratricide even if it was in an act of vengeance. He took a moment to mule over his decided course of action before mentally shrugging.

It didn’t matter what happened later. He would join the rest of his clan right after in the end. 

* * *

Most days it almost felt like he was still in the academy as Team Seven fell into a rhythmic schedule of numerous D-ranks only to end with their sensei mysteriously disappearing for the first four weeks. The slow-paced, negligent style of Hatake was getting on his nerves. He needed to train, not walk dogs. Why couldn’t anyone understand this? If That Man got sick of waiting and decided to seek him out he would finish the job and the last remaining founding clan of Konoha would perish along with the Senju they worshiped so much. Couldn’t this stupid village at least think of the benefits of keeping him alive? Another strong, loyal Uchiha ready to bare his neck for a military dictatorship. 

Fighting with Naruto was just about the only thing that stopped him from committing homicide. It was oddly therapeutic to tease the blond and watch him turn interesting shades of red as he squawked and sputtered at every insult. He didn’t bother trying to look into why he found it so endearing unless he wanted to start another identity crisis he was _not_ prepared for.

“Sasuke,” Sakura’s cheerful voice called out. It had been three hours and still no sign of their sensei. And why did he even bother getting out of bed so early? Hatake never even bothered giving a lacklustre excuse about how it was a test of patience or some shit. Instead he would drone on about something to do with old ladies and cats stuck in trees. 

“What?” he hissed, unfairly taking his anger out on the kunoichi. Naruto angled his head up from lounging on the training ground, eyes narrowing at him threateningly.

“W-Why do you look so angry right now?” she stammered, smiling wobbly. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out–”

“I’m angry because this shitty excuse of a sensei has been wasting our time as genin away doing chores that civilians are capable of when I should be training harder so I can fight That Man. I’m angry because nobody is taking me seriously. I’m angry because I got stuck on a team with a deadlast with questionable heritage and a kunoichi whose only usefulness is theoretical knowledge which, in case you didn’t know, would be completely useless in a fight! This pathetic excuse of a team is driving me crazy. I’ve accomplished nothing!”

Sakura’s eyes shuttered as she processed the slew of insults directed at her and Naruto. “S-Sasuke, I’m sorry…” 

“Sasuke–” Naruto growled menacingly as a dark aura enclosed around the boy

He swallowed, seeing that his outburst was unwarranted. _Sakura didn’t deserve that,_ a small part of his mind whispered but damn did it feel good to let it out.

“Look, I’m s-sorry,” he said. His throat was dry and he licked his lips anxiously, watching Sakura’s eyes well up with unshed tears. “That was harsh of me, but I meant what I said. They don’t tell you in detail how hard it is being a shinobi. Of course they warn you it’s not for the faint hearted but they mostly focus on the benefits and how duty to your village outweighs it all in the end.” If his voice took a caustic edge near the end, nobody mentioned it. 

“But the truth is you don’t take this seriously, Sakura! Shinobi die everyday. You could easily be living a peaceful life as a civilian but you chose to become a shinobi whereas people like Naruto and I became shinobi because it’s the only option available for us. Sure, it might seem cool as you’re defending the village you love but there’s more to it than that. The mental fortitude needed to withstand the violence of this profession is something I don’t think you realise yet. If you’re seriously here just because you like me then you should rethink your career choice.”

“I know that!” she screamed in distress, clutching her head like her mind was splitting apart. “Do you think I’m stupid? I fucking know that! This is what I hate about you clan-born shinobi. So stuck up and snobbish.” 

His eyes automatically swirled in fury at the blatant disrespect and he took a step closer. “Then fucking take this seriously, you’re deader weight than Naruto and he’s the deadlast!”

“Have you ever stopped to consider that I don’t have the same resources as you? As you so succinctly pointed out, I’m not clan born so I didn't start training at four-years-old and my body isn’t naturally fit to sustain the strain of becoming a shinobi. I had to work hard for this and you’re not taking that away from me, shannaro!”

He refocused and looked at her with those bottomless black eyes of his that once made her swoon, only now leaving her with bitterness and the realisation that he was just like the rest of them. 

“You’re weak,” he murmured, hearing That Man’s voice instead of his own, disjointedly. Was he telling himself that or Sakura? He didn’t know anymore.

“I’m not,” she cried. Her knees gave out and she dropped to the floor. “I won’t… I won’t be a failure, never again…”

He felt the punch before he saw it. Pain bloomed across his cheek but Sasuke knew he deserved it enough to not dodge. Naruto looked feral, staring down at him with such disappointment and contempt he could practically taste it. “How could you say that to her, Sasuke? You only ever think about yourself. You’re so selfish!”

He ignored him and focused back on Sakura.

“If you’re not weak then prove to me, prove to everyone you’re strong,” he whispered dazedly, rubbing the right side of his bruised face. “Don’t think about the limits you have, go beyond them. Ignore them. Fuck what everyone else thinks. Play to your strengths so well that nobody will ever question your worth based on your lack of clan.”

Her eyes widened in recognition. “You…”

“And stop… stop looking at me like I’m perfect,” he reluctantly added, pointedly not looking up. “I’m not. My brother was though.”

 _Before he killed everyone_ , was left unsaid.

And that was what hurt the most. Sasuke was chasing a standard so high it was nigh impossible until his miracle of a brother broke every boundary placed for someone his age.

His body trembled in exhaustion from the mentally taxing heart-to-heart. Naruto was watching him warily as he tried to leave the training ground like he was an enemy, and Sasuke desperately wanted to convince himself the churning in his stomach was from hunger only.

“Well,” Hatake drawled as he jumped out from the tree he was perched on with his Icha Icha in hand. “That was interesting. I was going to interfere but it seems like I didn’t need to in the end.”

“Sensei,” Sakura said, nervously, rubbing her arms self-consciously.

“Save it,” he snapped, before softening considerably, “I’ve heard everything.”

Sasuke gritted his teeth.

“The reason I assigned you so many D-ranks was because of what our cute Sasuke so politely pointed out: your teamwork dynamic is horrendous, frankly and what was I thinking when I passed you? Oh wait, I didn’t have a choice!” The trio blanched at the jounin’s blunt, uncouth statement. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say that. Oh well, I’m sure you guys guessed that anyways. There’s lots of eyes on this team and if you’re constantly bickering like children that wouldn’t look good for me, now would it?”

“No worries, I was simply trying to get a feel for this team and how to approach your training when the time comes… I think, anyway. You should enjoy being a genin while you can. It only gets worse from here,” he said, with a hint of regret in his voice. “To be able to rely on your teammates on the battlefield is a matter of life and death. It feels like you haven’t taken into heart the message I imparted on you on the day of the bell test, so I simply waited until you did something about it.” 

“What?” Naruto shouted.

He nodded his head innocently. “I can’t hold your hand through everything, now can I? Take action, mend the issues within this team, have a little independence instead of waiting for everything to be handed to you.”

“But that’s literally your fucking job!” Sakura shrieked, stomping her foot angrily. 

His entire demeanour changed as he straightened up from his perpetual slouch and tucked his book away, looking down at his students seriously. “Perhaps, but if you can’t take the incentive to have a professional working environment, you will not survive in this line of work. As shinobi the time may come where you will have to work with somebody you disapprove of or even hate who has personally wronged you. Can you put your differences aside and focus on the mission, or will you jeopardise everyone’s safety?”

“Genin teams in particular are special for most shinobi. They’re your first squad, all rookies unsure of what life beyond Konoha is like. I told myself I hated my genin team until they all died and left me alone,” he sighed with a bone-deep weariness that made Sasuke’s skin prickle.

“Naruto, you shouldn’t have punched your teammate but Sasuke you shouldn’t have provoked the two of them in such a way. I understand you realised that later but my point still stands. Once you two work through all your issues, I will begin training you as I see fit.”

The three shuddered at the dangerous tone only to stare dumbfounded as he shifted back to his usual state of boredom. “That’s enough for today. You can all go home now and tomorrow… D-ranks!” He clapped his hands. “Except you, Sasuke. Stay behind for a moment.”

Sasuke groaned. At least they got somewhere today.

Hatake’s lone eye watched him with an intensity that was unsettling. “Now little Uchiha, why didn’t you tell me you awakened the Sharingan, huh? Does your poor old sensei not deserve to know?”


	2. blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Scrolls,” Sasuke murmured. At Kakashi’s raised eyebrow he grunted, “I have scrolls on genjutsu at the private clan library.”
> 
> “You’d share them with me?” Kakashi asked incredulously. Everyone knew how much the Uchiha hoarded their information, especially on genjutsu close to their chest. Past attempts at sharing such a vault of knowledge was vehemently denied.
> 
> “Anything to fight him,” Sasuke said as if that explained everything, and in a way it did.

Not many people knew the requirements to awaken the Sharingan, the copy-wheel doujutsu Uchihas believe was gifted to them from the Gods. All the wilfully blind villagers saw was the glowing red eyes, its demonic appearance that recorded everything, spinning madly and, in a haste, turned to the other side.

What many also didn’t know, however was that although every single uchiha—even those with diluted blood—had the possibility of gaining the Sharingan, not many ever did. 

To achieve the blessed eyes of the Sharingan, one must experience desperation: that daunting feeling where you stare death in its face and wait for your fate to be sealed as well, only for the last flickers of hope and determination to come roaring to life as you finally taste the power that’s been itching to be wielded. The Sharingan almost always turns the battle to your favour and you walk home feeling victorious and bursting with pride, knowing your family is waiting at home to congratulate you.

At least, that’s how it usually goes.

Sasuke’s Sharingan awakened from the terror, from the sick feeling of betrayal, from the rage rumbling in his chest knowing there’s nothing he could do to ever erase the carnage in front of him from his mind. It was a sign of his failure, his weakness. He wasn’t even worth enough to be killed. 

_( ~~But those civilians and children younger than him were?~~ ) _

As such, Sasuke never touched his Sharingan and pretended it didn’t exist because after all, once you keep telling yourself something for years you begin to even believe it yourself. Sometimes he cursed his fragile psyche for placing so many limitations on himself—he could be training those eyes of his with the scrolls full of carefully written advice in the Naka Shrine. And worse enough this was all because he wanted to believe he could awaken his eyes in the same way the rest of his clan did—through an actual fight, not his palpable fear lashing out as he ran away from his clan’s murderer, hoping he wasn’t next. He didn’t want to be different. He was already the last Uchiha.

It was disgraceful. What sort of Uchiha was afraid of their own eyes? Every time the tomoe spun when he looked at the mirror, he saw red skies and black clouds. He would never speak of this travesty; he would die from shame alone. 

Sasuke knew there were people who could never recover from the shinobi lifestyle. Some of his clansmen used to have to be quarantined due to their unstable mind. The shaking of their arms, the mutterings to the air, their Sharingans unintentionally spinning frightfully, enemies lurking that are only figments of their imagination. It used to unsettle Sasuke but all his mother said to console him was that it was normal for shinobi who had extensive careers in the front lines, something that was the Uchiha clan’s specialisation.

She told Sasuke that while the Sharingan was such a useful tool, it was also a double-edged sword. The Sharingan achieved more than perfect clarity of images, making it more likely to be embedded in their minds forever. Every loss, every kill would never be forgotten. This was the price to pay for such steep power.

But Sasuke was only twelve. He had never witnessed a battlefield, only a murder scene, so why was his mind in tatters? Was that Itachi’s goal when he was placed under the genjutsu?

Itachi cemented his status as worthless, insignificant and in order to prove his existence wasn’t a mistake Sasuke would avenge those he abandoned and couldn’t save. The Uchiha name would no longer suffer such scorn and fearful praise. Hopefully, this way he would no longer be kept such a close watch on like he was a rabid dog waiting to strike. It was constricting, suffocating and made his skin crawl—the scrutinising of the higher ups and the council that decided everything for him.

His lack of control was alarming. One single misstep and he would be torn apart like an experiment, all his flaws bore to them only to be rearranged and moulded the way they saw fit. He knew it, the Hokage knew it and he was all _alone_ in this. They knew of his goals and possibly knew of his non-existent loyalty to the village. After all, if leaving the village aided him in his revenge he would never look back and gladly destroy his hitai-ate.

“Well?” Hatake asked patiently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That’s none of your business,” he muttered, sulkily. “I don’t need to tell anyone I have the Sharingan. Only clan members.” He took in his silvery hair that naturally pointed upwards and his lone grey eye. “And you’re obviously not an Uchiha.”

“I’m not,” he relented. Sighing, he lifted the hitai-ate that covered his other eye, “but I was assigned to be your jounin instructor for a reason.”

Sasuke’s heart stopped at the sight. “You…”

In actuality, Sasuke was already aware of Hatake’s Sharingan eye. That was one of the reasons why he was so hesitant and cautious around him. The audacity to own an eye he was not originally blessed with—how sacrilegious! Did he pilfer the Sharingan from a comrades’ corpse? If the day comes where Sasuke decides to defect would he hunt him down with his dogs and pluck his eyes out of his head to replace his remaining original eye with another one?

“This isn’t doujutsu theft,” the man who owned the eye of his _own clansmen_ said, in a soft, patronising tone. “I was given it as a dying wish. My teammate was an Uchiha.”

Sasuke’s forehead creased thoughtfully. “I don’t like this but if you haven’t been forced to return the eye I think it’s fine.”

“They’ve sure tried.”

Sasuke’s glare deepened. “We are a very religious clan. We don’t do well to outsiders finding out the secrets of our eyes. But I’m sure they couldn’t do anything to stop the Fourth Hokage's student, could they?” he uttered the last part bitterly.

Did Hatake see the Uchiha being against a non-Uchiha owning something that was rightfully theirs as unreasonable? Could it be possible that his teacher was another one of those shinobi who viewed his clan as judgmental and hostile, preconceived notions and prejudice influencing his interactions? Sasuke however was used to insults against his clan over the years even if it was hidden with flowery, tearful condolences.

“Hm, looks like you’ve done your research,” his sensei idly pointed out. “As for what you’re saying, I guess you’re right. I didn’t feel like I deserved this but Ob–he said he wanted to watch the future with me together through his eye.” His laugh was hoarse, laced with heavy regrets and self-hatred. He rubbed his face. “Your father… He allowed me to keep the eye. A lot of people were against his decision. He was a good man.” 

Sasuke had nothing to say to that. Of course, his father was a good man. Wicked Eye Fugaku’s reputation was not to be underestimated. As for whether he was a good father—well, Sasuke had nothing to say about that either. He refused to speak ill of the dead.

(Secretly, in the confines of his heavily guarded mind, Sasuke speculated if things with his clan would have turned out differently if Father didn’t pressure Itachi so much to be the perfect tool, but Fugaku wasn’t the one carrying the blade stained with blood at the end of it all. Did he even put up a fight? Fugaku was strong enough to be a Hokage candidate, and if he didn’t defend the people he was sworn to protect, what did that mean?)

“How long have you had the Sharingan for, Sasuke?”

“I don’t know,” he lied.

Huffing, Kakashi read between the lines, understanding his reluctance to share any more information. “Do you... want me to help you train to use it?”

If ‘Kakashi of the Sharingan’, the jounin who copied over a thousand jutsus, was as experienced of a Shinobi as the Bingo Book he found made him out to be, this truly was the perfect opportunity for him to practice wielding the last legacy his clan left behind. As He once told him, the best way to overcome his fears was to face it head on. And isn't it funny? Nothing made Sasuke paralysed with fear more than Him.

So he lifted his head and stared deep into the Sharingan with his own. “Yes,” he admitted.

Kakashi ruffled his hair. “You’re a good kid.”

He really wasn’t.

But he would accept the head pats for now, even if it reminded him of That Man, even if it made him flinch because the last time he was touched in an affectionate manner was with his dead family.

Only for now. That Man can’t take this from him.

* * *

Ever since the day Sasuke yelled at Sakura, something in her personality switched. The polite, cheerful persona that had occasional bouts of anger was replaced with a realistic, headstrong girl. Gone were the disturbing attempts at catching his attention, now replaced with a fiery determination to become strong. Despite how relieved Sasuke was that he had one less fan-girl, especially when it came to his own genin team, this also meant that, coupled with Sakura’s natural intellect and new lack of brain to mouth filter, she was being extremely critical. Of course, he would simply ignore her, only if her judgments weren’t very accurate and a lot of the time helpful. Now however, it was entirely unwelcome.

With Kakashi refusing to show up on time like a decent sensei would, their team was currently engaging in their own training, Sasuke’s in the form getting used to the crisp vision the Sharingan granted him while practicing ninjutsu. With such startling detail, he could clearly see the flow of chakra needed to withstand the fires he created and thus made it easier to optimise the chakra usage instead of wasting any.

Sakura, beside him, dutifully attempted to rectify her abysmal taijutsu with terrifying precision. How weird for it to turn out that the only reason she lacked so much in the physical department was because of her awful food habits. If she genuinely had no such restrictions, taijutsu could easily be her forte. He wasn’t going to praise her for her supposed natural talent however. 

“Sasuke, please just talk to Naruto, would you? I don’t know what his problem is,” she whispered, angling a thumb in said boy’s direction. Their other teammate was brooding in a manner that was eerily similar to the way he did. “He’s been like this for days now.”

Focused on his own training and unwilling to engage with Naruto’s uncharacteristic attitude, Sasuke shook his head firmly. “Why? The idiot’s being quiet for once. I thought you found him annoying.”

It seemed that even if Naruto was on the opposite side of the training ground from the two, he could still hear them loud and clear. “Wanna say that again, bastard?” he growled. 

Defeated, Sakura slumped to the floor. “Not this shit again,” she whined.

Pouting at her exasperation, Sasuke refocused on the blond who was glaring at him with such animosity it made his stomach flip. In an attempt to sound firm like his father used to, he crossed his shoulders and sent him the iconic Uchiha death-stare. “Y-you… Stop.”

“No.”

Not successful then. 

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m always angry!”

Sasuke turned to Sakura who looked back at him with equal bafflement. “No, you’re not.”

All of a sudden, the pent up frustration visible in the tension of his shoulders dissipated. In an undignified manner, he solemnly stared at the two. “I have to be happy,” Naruto explained with newfound patience. “Being happy doesn’t mean I can’t be angry. Yeah, that makes sense.” 

“Hm, I think that does make sense,” Sakura agreed, humming in curiosity. “I get very angry too. Sometimes I punch people. Hard. Nobody expects it to be hard.”

“I’m only ever angry,” Sasuke revealed. “I can’t remember what being happy feels like.”

Naruto’s intense blue eyes seemed to look right through him. “You seem sad too.” 

In abject horror, Sasuke recoiled, hissing like a cat. “I am _not._ ” Unknown to him, his teammates found the sight strangely endearing.

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so.” Naruto then looked away in shame. “Your red, magic eyes… I hate them.” 

Scoffing at the audacity to say that, Sasuke shoved his hands into his pockets, locking up any emotion he just revealed. Why did it hurt to hear that when he too at times felt the same? “A lot of people do.”

“I–I don’t understand why I do. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it but I just wanted to never see it again.” He then let out a weird noise like he was thinking intensely. “Sharingan?”

“Congratulations. You just said the name of my clan’s doujutsu.”

Naruto then _ooohed_ and muttered something about a stupid fox before replying back to Sasuke. “Never mind, I don’t hate them. At least, I don’t think I do. Someone else does though.”

“Okay.”

And then, in a complete flip, he grinned widely and began begging for a spar, as if his previous mood was non-existent. Good. Naruto looked best with a smile.

If Sakura was triumphantly laughing at him, well nobody had to know.

* * *

The only logical explanation for Kakashi’s immediate beginning of training would be that he was constantly spying on the trio of genin. Or maybe he noticed the new, weird cohesion Team 7 had. No matter what, Sasuke and Naruto would always argue, although now there was an underlayer of reluctant fondness instead of mostly spite and jealousy. The dynamic had shifted and it felt a little easier for Sasuke to breathe.

Now that their teamwork was somewhat bearable, Kakashi had surprised them the next morning. It was well over a month since their graduation from the academy and he deemed them ready for their own type of training. 

“Sakura!” he called out. 

“Yes, sensei?” 

“Hm, you’re a genjutsu type. How do you feel about learning some genjutsu? I am not a genjutsu specialist but I could pass you a few D and C-rank techniques if you want?”

“Please train me in genjutsu as much as you can!”

“Well, your reserves at the moment are too small for any elemental ninjutsu. That’s fine. It's a mostly chuunin skill and if your chakra control is as good as I think it is, genjutsu would be the perfect fit for you,” he mused. He then snapped his fingers. “Actually, Sakura, could you please try walking up that tree in front of you?” Seeing her dumbfounded expression, he demonstrated what he had initially asked of her.

“Okay,” and she walked up on her _first try._

Kakashi shivered at her savage smirk. Oh, she would grow up to be very terrifying indeed. 

“Once you fix your nutritional diet fit for a kunoichi we can begin finding a taijutsu style that fits you. For now however, I want you to next work on water-walking once you’re sure you’re perfectly fine with tree-walking.” 

“Yes, sensei,” she chirped, although her face did twist in disgust at the word ‘diet’. 

“You must also build up endurance to increase your stamina. If I make you a physical training regimen would you stick to it, Sakura?” he asked, curiously. 

She nodded her head furiously, seemingly shocked that he would even ask that of her. “Of course, sensei!” 

Then she ran off in a frenzy to work on what he ordered her to. 

“Now, Naruto,” Kakashi began, catching the attention of the boy who was watching Sakura with awe etched on his face, “you are definitely a ninjutsu type. You have larger chakra reserves than most shinobi I have ever fought.” 

This seemed to surprise the blond who gasped in excitement. “Really?” 

“Mhm, I think your affinity is wind, but just to be sure, take this paper and channel chakra through it,” he ordered and when Naruto looked at him in confusion, he gave a basic explanation of its application. 

Just as he predicted, the paper split in two. “Wind is untameable and very, very destructive, similar to fire. I’ll teach you a few low-ranked Wind style techniques but what I want to mostly do with you is work on your chakra control as much as possible and refine your messy taijutsu. Your advantage will be your persistence and stamina. So you’ve gotta also think quickly while fighting and be creative. Do you think you can do that?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Good,” he said, smiling fondly and ruffling his hair. Again, it felt like he was seeing someone else, and now knowing who Kakashi’s own sensei was, it was probably the Fourth Hokage. “Finally, Sasuke.” Kakashi handed him the same paper he lent Naruto and as he channeled chakra, the paper crinkled and later burnt into flames. 

“Interesting, lightning affinity with a minor fire affinity.” 

If Sasuke didn’t have a minor fire affinity he might have lost his temper. Why lightning? To Uchihas fire represented their strong spirit. Fire gifted to them from Amaterasu whom they worshipped heavily was what made them such fearsome warriors. The blazing hot fire and their glinting Sharingan that pierced through darkness gave them a constant warm undertone. It was their pride and although to some they seemed like budding pyromaniacs, the beauty of flames was something Uchihas would never stop appreciating until the end of time. Uchihas were birthed with fire and would die in fire, their remains cremated so they could move on and have their souls eternally blessed by the Gods. 

What made him different? Now that he thought about it, that must have been the reason why mastering the Grand Fireball Jutsu was harder than it should have been, compared to the rest of the clan children his age at the time. Was he an outlier then? Was everything about him going to be so different from what it should be? If all of this happened at the age where he was desperately working to gain his father’s approval, he might have enjoyed the feeling of standing out but now all he could imagine was failure of living up to the entirety of the Uchiha name he wanted to represent with pride so badly. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Sasuke,” his sensei chided upon seeing his unimpressed expression. “Two affinities is quite rare. I can easily teach you some fire techniques I’ve picked up. My affinity is actually also lightning so I’ll be teaching you a lot of it and how to make your main affinity stronger. That and your Sharingan training will help you improve as a shinobi. I wonder though, do you want to learn genjutsu? I understand it was Itachi Uchiha’s speciality… but it was also what made the Uchiha clan so feared.” 

Exemplified by his flinch at the name, it seemed as though Kakashi noticed his avoidance of anything that reminded him that of night, in particular his genjutsu torture. 

“He made a genjutsu where I saw my family die over and over again,” he confessed defiantly at the sympathetic expression. Oh, how he hated that look. “It felt like forever. It felt like time didn’t even exist. If there’s any way I can counter that, any way I can make sure that never happens again, I’ll take it.” 

If Sasuke felt helpless upon discovering his parent’s corpse, it didn’t compare to the endless scene etched so detailed in his mind as a grim reminder for the rest of his short life. At one point he stopped screaming for someone to make it all stop, just stared with growing apathy as he memorised each slash, each glint that reflected off the blade. His younger cousin, only four years old, murdered in cold blood without a single spared glance, babies he remembered visiting when they were born with his mother slaughtered like cattle, elderly men and women who used to coo at him and feed him sweets they knew he hated just to watch his expression twist into a grimace, beheaded gruesomely, aunts who gossiped but still hugged him whenever they saw him ruthlessly stabbed.

He stared. 

And waited for the next scene. 

Mother. Father. 

Each time he was too weak to save them, and each time he moved closer and closer to their bodies, only for them to be mercilessly taken away from him at the last second. Perhaps the largest betrayal was after the few hundred times he tried to save his parents, he gave up and simply watched. 

“As I said to Sakura, I’m not a genjutsu expert. The Uchihas used to be the ones most proficient with the help of their Sharingan. Now, the only jounin I know of that specialises in genjutsu is Kurenai Yuhi but she has a genin team of her own to train.” 

“Scrolls,” Sasuke murmured. At Kakashi’s raised eyebrow he grunted, “I have scrolls on genjutsu at the private clan library.” 

“You’d share them with me?” Kakashi asked incredulously. Everyone knew how much the Uchiha hoarded their information, especially on genjutsu close to their chest. Past attempts at sharing such a vault of knowledge was vehemently denied. 

“Anything to fight him,” Sasuke said as if that explained everything, and in a way it did. 

“I see. Well, now that I’ve explained the overview of your training, for now I also want you to join Naruto and Sakura to tree-walk. This will improve your chakra control and in general is very essential to a shinobi’s career.” 

“Fine.” 

Dirt-covered and groaning, Naruto, who had just fallen off a low branch, looked up and yelled, “Bet you can’t climb higher than me, bastard!” 

Oh, it was so on. Nobody challenges Sasuke Uchiha and wins. 

“I’m better than both of you losers, shannaro!” Sakura bellowed from above in the highest branch of her tree. 

Both of the boys’ competitive streak ignited once again, taking determined stances and running up for hours on end until they perfected the task. 

With his book in his hand, Kakashi wondered if Sasuke would be anywhere near as cooperative as he currently was if he wasn’t directly useful in aiding his goals of revenge. 

Sasuke on the other hand wondered how long his training would take for him to be prepared to finally fight his brother to the death and lay down his burdens. 

And when he meant to lay down his burdens he meant to join his mother and father right after Itachi died. Perhaps there was no need for the Uchiha clan to repopulate. Nobody deserves them, certainly not the village that turned their backs on them over time. He would end the legacy but allow it to live on in memory. He would give the rest of his clansmen the peace they truly needed in order to rest eternally. Hopefully the gods were merciful enough to understand the reasoning behind his suicide. 

(Truthfully, he couldn’t imagine starting a family, couldn’t imagine falling in love and marrying a woman. Why force himself to do so when it wouldn’t matter in the end? It wouldn’t bring him contentment, only more misery once he realised how incapable he is of functioning normally. He was too jaded, too broken for a domestic life of peace and retirement. Nonetheless, there was no need for more Uchiha to exist, only for true justice to be served.) 

Kakashi watched Sasuke’s grip on his shirt tighten and his face darken with the destructive, fatal thoughts poisoning his mind steadily and with feigned indifference turned to the other side, no matter how uncannily similar it looked to when he was on the verge of insanity himself.

* * *

“Team 7 reporting for another completed mission of Capture Tora the cat!” Naruto announced despite this being their sensei’s job. In his hands the demon cat whined and scratched its claws on the boy in a desperate attempt at escaping. 

Sitting in front of them on a desk was the Third Hokage, smoking from a large pipe with brown eyes that softened at the sight of the blond and a grandfatherly smile carefully plastered immaculately over his face. 

“Naruto, my child, Team 7, well done,” he congratulated with a chuckle that made Sasuke’s toes curl turn in dreaded anticipation. 

“Old man, when are we gonna do a real mission, huh? I’m sick of doing all these baby chores, ‘ttebayo! Kakashi-sensei taught us a lot of cool stuff and I feel way stronger, believe it! I know I’m ready and if you’re not careful I’ll steal that hat from you as Uzumaki Naruto, future Hokage.” 

From annoyance or embarrassment, Sasuke catalogued how Sakura’s hands spasmed miniaturely, possibly to refrain from pounding the boy in the head at his disregard of obedience and required respect in front of such an important figure. Sasuke was close to laughing. Here he was in a cold sweat from the presence of the man that intensely watched him the moment he woke up from being in a coma and gave him clipped details of the aftermath of the massacre before giving the shortest condolence and leaving—and Naruto spoke to him like he was his actual grandfather. 

Was Naruto so special he had to have such an unprofessional relationship with the military dictator of the strongest Hidden Village in the Elemental Nations? Son of the Fourth Hokage or not, this was absurd. No, there had to be more to this _and he would find out._

“Now, now, Naruto,” Sarutobi said. “No need to get ahead of yourself. We give you missions based on skill and experience, in order to properly prepare our shinobi accordingly. It wouldn’t be fun to be sent on a mission you are unqualified to handle, would it?”

In disbelief, Sasuke huffed at the audacity of the Hokage who, throughout his decades long reign, sent out many children who displayed a smidge of talent half his own age to fight pointless wars. Did he spout this bullshit about protecting the youth during wars as well? His brother, despite mostly growing up during peacetime, was sacrificed unfairly and placed in ANBU black ops to serve him and carry out assassinations. Granted, it was accepted through his own father’s persistence but the fact that a child was even allowed spoke volumes. 

All of this war and bloodshed was in the name of preserving peace and securing a better future for the children of each village shinobi were from, so then why were children so readily available as cannon fodder? Was this the dream Hashirama and Madara envisioned? For all the boasting the history books made about the technological and moral advancements made from the warring clans era, not much in terms of child soldiers was truly changed. Maybe maintaining peace is impossible; there has yet to be a successful system that benefits more people than it harms. There is no recorded time period seen in the history of the Elemental Nations where violence is not the answer to all conflict and the more Sasuke thought about this, the more hopeless he felt.

What was the point of this all? Was conflict through brute force truly necessary for peace to be achieved, and if that was the case then wasn’t the cost for something so short-lived far too high? 

If the Hokage refused to throw children’s lives away for the so-called greater good would he still have his shy, awkward brother? Or was everything they went through together truly fake? At times like this where the inconsistencies of that night mocked him, Sasuke couldn't help but fantasise about what life would be like if his brother didn't snap under the pressure. Was it wrong of him to reminisce fond memories of his clan’s murderer? _Probably._

He completely froze up when Kakashi placed a firm hand on his shoulder in warning once the Hokage’s attention momentarily shifted to him at the noise he let out. 

Unaware of the brewing tension in the office, Naruto continued complaining. “But I want a cooler mission! Isn’t there anything harder than this?” 

At the Hokage’s considering expression, Sasuke paled, eyes trained solely on the clock above him. “Well, there is one mission.” 

That old man was definitely planning something nefarious. He just knew. 

“Really, really? Let’s do it!” 

“Bring him in,” Sarutobi ordered. 

As the door opened, a scent of strong alcohol wafted into the room, making Sasuke’s nose twitch in disgust. Dressed in clothes that seemed worn out and with a poorly shaven face, stood a civilian. 

“These are the brats I get? Look at how tiny the blond one is,” the drunk said, condescendingly. 

Ignoring Naruto’s indignant squawk, Sarutobi gave a chilling smile. “How about a C-rank, no?” 

Whilst the rest of his team left the Tower to go to their houses and prepare for the mission scheduled for the next day, Sasuke suddenly realised how silent Kakashi was during the whole debacle. For a sensei who seemed to love the sound of his own voice, this was interestingly out of character. Now, was this blind, unfaltering loyalty or silence out of fear? Only time would tell.

* * *

Curiosity can be a dangerous sentiment and that was what caused Sasuke to knock on Naruto’s door. 

“Huh? Sasuke?” he groggily muttered. There was still drool on his cheek and his eyes had yet to fully open. 

“Why do you know the Hokage personally?” Sasuke inquired without any reservations or tact. 

It was enough of a mystery that he felt like he just had to know. Like most nights in the Uchiha compound, sleep was restless and short. Getting up early today just happened to be convenient as they had a mission later anyway. 

“You show up at my door at six in the morning to ask me that? How do you even know where I live?” Seeing that he was not going to get a straight answer, Uzumaki opened the door in invitation, squinting at him in suspicion. “You can come in. Just don’t touch the fridge.” 

“Idiot, just answer the question,” he demanded with growing urgency, tapping his foot, impatiently. 

“Huh? What quest—Oh, about ol’ man Hokage? Eheh, well he used to always visit me when I was a kid, ‘ttebayo!” the blond explained with a mesmerising smile. “He’s the only one who thinks I can become Hokage like I say I will.” Sasuke, now seated on his couch in the living room, scooted backwards as Naruto leaned in as if to tell a secret. “Don’t tell anyone but… the villagers don’t like me so much. They blame me for something bad that happened.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t wanna tell you. You’ll hate me too and then that’ll really suck,” he said with his own flawed logic. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll prove them all wrong and become Hokage and that way they’ll have to like me.” 

Sasuke sucked in a breath. Did Naruto really think that lowly of him? “I won’t.” 

Naruto, catching on to his frustration, frowned at him. “You probably will. Even if you don’t… I don’t think I wanna risk it at all. You’re better off not knowing.” 

“You really are an idiot,” Sasuke whispered. He refused to continue thinking why it hurt so much to be lumped with those ignorant, foolish villagers. 

How he hated them and the shallow-minded callousness of their words and gossip. If Naruto could handle their ostracisation, he could handle them slandering his clan’s name with stories of tragedies and betrayal.

All in all, it didn’t matter if Naruto didn’t want to tell him. He would soon find out somehow, just like everything else he unintentionally discovered. A part of him simply hoped he could hear the actual secret from the boy himself. Patience was not one of his strong suits but he could wait for when the time called for it.

It’s not like he cared for his teammates' well-being or anything. The only reason he asked was to satiate his own quest for knowledge that could be useful in the future. 

Maybe his resolve of keeping a distance from his teammates was crumbling but Sasuke would stay in denial. He was good at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for the feedback i received from the first chapter it rlly made me want to write more !! sasuke seems to me like the kinda character that just gets lost in his thoughts n there’s so much u can do w him eheh .. i’ll try update as regularly as i can but there’s no promises


	3. a vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke felt heavy, tired in a way that he sometimes felt when the world seemed too cold, too cruel.
> 
> He almost died today. He almost never got to avenge his family. (He almost never got to see his older brother again, his only family left in the world). 
> 
> So he promised himself once again to become so powerful, so untouchable and so skilled that he would never be threatened and vulnerable ever again.

Guiding a bridge builder all the way to Wave seemed like a simple enough introduction to the beauty of C-rank missions—until it wasn’t. Who could even say they encountered notorious missing-nins on their first mission outside of the village? Sasuke was beginning to think this team was cursed. 

Before meeting up with Tazuna, Kakashi had asked the trio to show him all their weapons at their usual training ground and tutted in disappointment at the poor state.

“Sakura, well done for carrying an actual first aid kit,” he praised. “Your kunai is way too blunt, though. You’re not in the academy anymore. And why don’t you have any shuriken?”

“My shuriken aim isn’t so good,” she said, head hanging low in admonishment.

Kakashi raised a brow, incredulously. “Then practice with shuriken until it’s as good as your kunai aim. All it takes is hours of practice until muscle memory kicks in. Pack some anyway. You never know when it could be useful.”

“Yes, sensei.” 

“Naruto, yours is quite good,” he hummed, turning to his other student. “Did you ask for help beforehand?”

“Yeah! Iruka-sensei showed me how after we had ramen together.” His cheeks were flushed, glowing with pride.

“Good.” Kakashi patted his head like he probably would do to his own dogs. “Make use of all the options you have available to you. Now, Sasuke?” Finally, he opened his palm in askance for the weapons pouch. “Not enough kunai, plenty shuriken as expected of an Uchiha. Hm, you know how to use wire?”

Sasuke shoved his hands into his pockets, avoiding any eye contact his sensei actively sought out. “Obviously.” 

His eyes curved. “Great. Maybe you could show Naruto some time. It would compliment his trapping skills.”

“I’m not his sensei. That’s your job.”

“Perhaps,” Kakashi easily agreed, “but teamwork is also important, don’t you think? The ability to share skills and help each other. At the end of the day, this is to ensure your survival. Don’t you want Naruto to have a higher chance of survival?”

Kakashi’s method of trying to get Sasuke to cooperate was, while underhanded, not without some truth to it. The way he never sugar-coated the possibility of death on the battlefield in comparison to their academy instructors who made it seem as if Sasuke would almost always be protected due to his noble status was unnerving to say the least albeit refreshing.

And despite Kakashi’s words of course being nothing but hyperbole, it managed to do its job. “Fine,” he grounded out. 

The image of his teammate on the verge of death due to his own negligence was painful enough to make his dormant Sharingan itch, so Sasuke would cooperate because he was sick of watching people around him die.

* * *

Leaving the village for a C-rank so soon after graduation from the academy was almost unheard of during peacetime, not that Team 7 particularly cared at all. Seeing the other rookies his age spending their days relaxing and only just beginning tree walking was what annoyed him the most. And he knew Sakura agreed as well, green eyes glinting irritably whenever the annoying Yamanaka would coo and mock her after a long day of training.

Undoubtedly, there was an air of privilege to the other two genin teams. Their slow, gentle approach to training and their jounin instructors treating them far more delicately than Kakashi ever did was strange.

It was like they lived in two entirely different worlds and Sasuke never felt so separated from his previous classmates until he properly paid attention to their progress. Clan heirs—minus Kiba Inuzuka—and _Sakura Haruno_ , the daughter of two civilians, was stronger than all of them. 

Sasuke knew Sakura worked hard, perhaps not as hard as him but definitely harder than anybody else their age in the village to keep up with the team. Although he noted that she didn’t finish her ramen whenever they went to Ichiraku’s together, she ate much more than she used to. Naruto with his unnatural and frankly terrifying chakra reserves had an endless amount of stamina which meant that during spars Sakura had to learn how to win within the first two minutes as she was still building up her endurance with the exercises Kakashi had instructed her on. 

Her punches were devastating, her fighting full of misdirection and sensory deprivation, especially with the genjutsu she was learning. She wasn’t dead weight anymore. Good. She wouldn’t become a liability in the field. 

Make no mistake, Sasuke was fully aware that Sakura was only placed on the team as cannon fodder and a peacemaker for him and Naruto butting heads. It was pretty obvious that the expectation for her was to either fail under the stress or soar to heights unseen before, yet if one were to see her obnoxious bubblegum pink hair and long, red dress that was exceedingly impractical, the former would be decided for her. 

Alas, underestimation could prove useful in certain situations as a shinobi. 

He watched her bonk Naruto’s head after he said something particularly stupid and sighed. Were they growing on him? He knew at the very beginning of being assigned to this team that anger was all he could feel, anger at being slighted by the Hokage. Wouldn’t it make more sense to put him into a team with other clan heirs? After all, Sasuke would become clan head as soon as he reached chuunin status and inherit the fortune the Uchihas had accumulated in the centuries. 

A civilian-born child and village pariah would hold him back in the grand scheme of his shinobi career now. They were okay, though. Maybe political status doesn’t matter as much in terms of talent and dependability sometimes. Beyond everything, it wasn’t like Sasuke was interested in the inner workings of the village, only when it concerned himself. 

* * *

The wind billowed and elevated Sasuke’s hair to his eyes as Team 7 reached further away from the Fire Country Konohagakure resides in, trees decreasing in size with less sturdiness. Dust clung to his feet as the path they walked on became narrower, the humidity of the air causing his clothes to cling onto his skin uncomfortably. Three measly days had passed and camping would soon be necessary for them to reach the Land of Wave. 

Sakura, who had been mostly quiet during their seemingly mundane C-rank mission, suddenly angled her body to look at Kakashi. “Sensei, so does Wave have any shinobi?” 

“No, they don’t,” said man replied. He hummed curiously. “Shouldn’t you know that, Sakura? You were the top in academics after all.” 

Hunching in on herself, the twelve-year-old girl stammered, “Y-yeah! Sorry, sensei. Now that you mention it I do remember. Must have crossed my mind… haha.” Her tone, earnest in nature, was also imbued with traceable bitterness. 

“Kaka-sensei, Kaka-sensei! Sakura’s really smart, y’know? She’s amazing and got full marks in all the exams we did at the academy. I got zero, haha. Her punches hurt loads in training, too.” Scratching the back of his head, the deadlast’s eyes searchingly locked with the girls’ and he gave her a small, comforting nod. 

While Kakashi mouthed the name Kaka-sensei and scrunched his face up in disgust, Sasuke tilted his head at the considerate action, and upon eye contact with the blond who then stuck his tongue out at him, hurriedly looked away. 

“The shinobi academy curriculum has truly dropped in terms of intensity and useful results,” Kakashi mentioned with a nostalgic twinge in his voice. “While it didn’t take me long to get you three into decent shape for genin, the standards have lowered considerably. If this was around twenty years ago, all of you would have failed your graduation exam.” 

“Twenty years ago… but that’s around war time sensei!” Sakura exclaimed. “There’s no war so shouldn’t it be easier?” 

A hand ran down his face, making Kakashi seem far older and wearier even with his mask on concealing most of his expressions. “Oh, to be young and ignorant.” 

“Baby genins, war is never truly over. I can guarantee that another war possibly even worse than the last one will come and claim just as many lives, and when that happens none of you will be prepared. War is halted with meaningless signed papers and loopholes intentionally left to be exploited. War is fought through deception, espionage and with soldiers that don’t meander the streets in day time. War never ends. It only takes a different form. What we are living in right now is not peace—and the sooner you understand that the better. There is no peace in being a shinobi. You are a tool for the state to be sharpened and brandished against other villages.” 

_He sounds like Shisui._ Not many knew how nihilistic the young jounin had been when he was alive. Many speculated that it was Itachi with his solemn gaze that seemed to penetrate even the most hardened veterans with its calculating intensity. But the demoralised one had been Shisui. Itachi, while he shared similar views to Shisui, had something he didn’t: hope. Always looking forward and working hard for a bloodless future where the occupation of being a shinobi itself was no longer needed had been his dream and even though he knew it would never happen in his lifetime, his faith in humanity had been strong. 

Shisui, who had also graduated at seven, was immediately thrust into a war he gave no fucks about and forced to sometimes even kill enemies his age as well; mangled bodies of young children would haunt his mind for years to come. Having gained his Mangekyo Sharingan after watching his teammates be ferociously annihilated, his opinions were bound to be jaded. At the end of the day, despite his obvious misgivings and anger at how life turned out, Shisui still gave Sasuke the impression that he would do absolutely anything to protect his village and clan. 

It didn’t take long for Itachi’s righteous beliefs to sour once his father ordered him to join ANBU. 

While Sasuke was young, he wasn’t ignorant. The blank looks Kakashi sometimes sported were the same as the ones Itachi had once joining ANBU. Coupled with the fact that he was known to be an elite jounin, it wasn’t a stretch to speculate that he was also part of ANBU at some point. And quite recently too. 

Naruto had gone silent, his bickering with Tazuna dying out after a few hours. 

At the imperceptible shift to his surroundings, Sasuke’s Sharingan flickered to life, focused on the lone puddle standing out like a sore thumb and oozing with chakra. For a puddle to be there was suspicious, as there had been no rain for days; he was almost certain they were about to be ambushed. 

And just as he was about to alert Kakashi of his suspicions, said man’s body was immediately cleaved in half, gruesomely. Unadulterated panic seeped into his bones until an enemy was right in front of Sasuke’s face, kunai in hand with a murderous grin. 

He didn’t have time to think—only to take down the enemy as swiftly as possible. A well aimed swipe of his legs and kick to the chest and they were instantly down. Heart hammering wildly in his chest and mind an empty haze, it took him a few seconds to realise that his kunai was pointed at the enemy’s neck, a small drop of blood visible at the tip, which would cause immediate death if he pushed further in. Seeing as the man was out of commission, Sasuke reluctantly pulled the almost fatal attack away and knocked out the man with the blunt of his kunai instead. 

Sakura, beside him, seemed to have taken down the other missing-nin with ease, not a smidge of emotion visible on her unyielding face. After tying her enemy up, she silently handed him a rope for him to do the same and he nodded his head in gratitude. 

Shaking like a leaf was surprisingly Naruto—his talk of being the strongest and the next Hokage must have been all empty boasting for him to struggle taking down such incompetent shinobi. Seriously, who even hides in plain sight like that? 

Kakashi had also returned from his supposed observation, praised him and Sakura but condescendingly mocked Naruto even if he didn’t mean to (but knowing how sadistic their sensei was he probably did). Ashamed, Naruto diverted his eyes to the side, in an unusual act of vulnerability never revealed before and a lot of awful things had been said to Naruto during their time in team seven. 

(The glares, the whispers of a demon child, the random missions from civilians that almost always got turned down to the point where Sasuke noticed that Kakashi only gave them D-ranks from clan-born shinobi households. It was all creating a very ugly picture.) 

That didn’t deter Sasuke from leaning in with feigned nonchalance, a typical smirk and saying, “What are you—a scaredy-cat?” 

And Sasuke didn’t prepare himself for the tense silence accompanying such a taunt that would usually be responded with a similar jab—maybe at his hairstyle and his “pretty boy bullshit that nobody falls for, dattebayo!” 

Kakashi had gone to interrogate Tazuna with a chilling smile that promised pain if he dared lie, and the old man began weaving a heart wrenching tale of his poor village that was terrorised by an influential shipping magnate taking hold of their island, how as a bridge builder, he was a direct threat. 

Sasuke rolled his eyes at the cheap manipulation tactic but couldn’t deny that he wanted to continue the mission. The likelihood of an enemy stronger than the one they faced before was high and Sasuke was just itching for a good fight. Nonetheless he had understood that the mission was far above what was expected for typical genin. Any other jounin would immediately head back as soon as a client dared lie about the mission ranking. There was no true deceit however. Just a man doing whatever he could to save his people. Sasuke could respect that. 

“I’m afraid we can’t continue this mission,” Kakashi said, ignoring Sakura and Naruto’s simultaneous protests. “You see, my genin are very new, just out of the academy actually and the ranking of this mission has already risen to a B. You understand that they don’t have the experience to protect you to their fullest, don’t you?” 

Stricken with distress, Tazuna shook his head. “Please, I’m sorry! I told you it was all I could afford. If I don’t build this bridge my people will starve to death. We’ll be doomed.” 

“My student’s safety is my priority currently,” Kakashi responded with no inflection to his voice. “Protocol demands I return back to Konoha and harsh consequences upon you for mis-ranking the mission. If you didn’t have an elite jounin such as myself guarding you as well, there could have been casualties either now or later on.” He then pointed at Naruto. “Furthermore, my student is poisoned and needs to get treated.” 

Out of nowhere the idiot had stabbed his own hand and declared a pledge to never back down again—something like that anyway. All Sasuke could do was march up to him, huffing and puffing aggressively and attempt to bandage him up with his own first aid kit. 

Staring at him in confusion at the caring display, Naruto blinked. “Sasuke, what are you… I mean, why are you…” 

“Idiot, do you want to bleed out?” 

Just as he wiped the blood away, Sasuke noticed the wound already closing at an alarmingly fast rate. He raised his brow, however, and continued to bandage up Naruto, saying nothing, already knowing Kakashi was watching him warily upon seeing his considering look. 

“Sensei, we should continue the mission.” Sakura, insecure yet outspoken Sakura had taken a stance, one where more lives could be saved. It was with no surprise to Sasuke—despite her sheer strength there was an air of gentleness and tranquility to the girl, sometimes to the point where after a long day of training Sasuke could sit beside her and simply bask in her presence that exuded security. Intrinsically, a part of Sakura, even if she underwent the harshest conditioning programme, would be benign. 

It was invigorating in a world of ruthless killers, of state sanctioned murder and vigilant dissimulation. Where Sasuke lacked the means to properly express his emotion, Naruto nicely covered for him. Where Sasuke failed to be mature and an anchor for someone, Sakura filled in the gap. Team 7 made Sasuke feel whole in a way he hadn’t experienced for years. 

And as Naruto chimed in to voice his agreements with Sakura who began trying to reason with her sensei to his obvious amusement, ultimately convincing her sensei to believe her team was capable of taking on the mission, Sasuke allowed a small, unnoticeable smile to grace his features that relaxed and lost its sharp, pointiness and razor edges. 

Aching and grouchy, the bridge builder they were guarding groaned and moaned with relentless insistence to take a break. “My legs are killing me. I know you freaky, superpowered ninja can do stuff no-one else can but I’m a grandpa!” 

_Useless civilians,_ Sasuke’s mind spat and with Kakashi’s deadpan expression mirroring his, a part of him seemed to agree too. On the other hand, Sakura sympathetically nodded her head. 

_Typical._

* * *

Huddled in a boat to reach Wave country undetected, the mist was thick and almost opaque, the perfect camouflage. 

“Tazuna, tell us more about your situation at Wave and the people behind this,” Kakashi demanded, his tone leaving no argument. 

Pensive, the old man sighed. “Like I said, as a bridge builder, I am directly in the way of Gatou who wants to take hold of Wave for trading advantages. If the bridge is built my people are free. Gatou, already one of the richest men in the Elemental Nations, will leave my people dirt poor and has continued to rob us with his thugs. It’s no secret his wealth is from illegal operations such as human trafficking and drug cartels.” 

As Sakura conversed with Tazuna to the confusion of a blank-faced Naruto, Sasuke listened in as well to pick up on any important information being shared, legs crossed and elbows propped up on his thighs. 

“Sensei, why doesn’t Konoha help Wave financially?” Sakura asked. 

“Well, to put it simply, there are no benefits for Konoha. If Wave had something to offer we could possibly work out a trading deal of sorts but it must be mutually beneficial.” Offended, Tazuna sent Kakashi a dirty look that he expertly ignored. “Although, if we do manage to guard Tazuna long enough for him to build the bridge, Wave would be in our debt. That could prove useful for the future.” 

Naruto furrowed his brows. “That doesn’t sound so nice.” 

“It doesn’t but it’s the reality of things, isn’t it? Wave isn’t actually our problem as Konoha shinobi.” 

To explain his views so bluntly and without the flowery language usually embedded in such a direct, cold answer, Sasuke’s inkling was confirmed that a part of Kakashi disapproved of such remiss on Konohagakure’s behalf. Perhaps he wasn’t as loyal as Sasuke initially thought. As he had confirmed his participation in the Third Great Ninja War he must have witnessed many innocent citizens get caught in the crossfire of Konohagakure’s machinations and therefore had an understanding that the village operated on the basis that it was the priority. 

“Your village doesn’t sound too nice.” Tazuna distressfully looked between the three genin and jounin in a new light. 

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. “Surely, you don’t mean that, do you? All hidden villages generally have the same system implemented in order to protect their people. You understand that a village must always place their people first, seeing as you lied about the mission ranking and could have potentially sent unassuming chuunin to their deaths if Team 7 weren’t assigned this mission.” 

The old man became silent at his sensei’s harsh rebuke. 

“Sensei, why don’t we just kill Gatou?” 

Everyone else on the boat winced. 

“Erm, Sasuke you can’t just kill people who are in the way,” Kakashi carefully said. 

Why was everyone looking at him like he was crazy? “If we kill Gatou he can’t hire more shinobi to assassinate Tazuna.” 

“Our mission is to act as bodyguards for Tazuna, not kill whoever we want to.” 

“It would make things easier,” he grumbled disdainfully. 

“The thing is, Sasuke, we don’t know what the ramifications of killing such an important man is. If we kill Gatou on the basis of his illegal operations we need proof of it first. Assassinations also need to be approved by the Hokage.” His voice sounded, flatter, deader like he had recited the line countless times. “Shinobis are tools who must carry out their mission to the best of their ability—and while I am a jounin with a lot of authority, I can’t make a decision that could dramatically change the political landscape alone. We don’t even know if killing Gatou could change anything. For all we know, somebody even worse could take over his company and exploit Wave instead.” 

“All we can do is guard Tazuna and fend off any shinobi or low level thugs that try to harm him,” said Sakura, resolutely. 

“Precisely—which is why I’m going to have to amp up your training once we get there.” His sensei’s sadistic streak returned. “Oh I'm going to enjoy running you to the ground everyday.” 

All three genin shivered and scooted away from the jounin who was nodding his head evilly. 

Sasuke closed his eyes and exhaled. 

Stealing Gatou’s money would make it possible to evenly distribute the millionaire’s wealth amongst the supposedly destitute citizens of Wave. Not only would it cease further assassination attempts on Tazuna’s life but also solve the issue of Wave regaining their wealth if Konohagakure refused to aid them financially. It wasn’t like half of Gatou’s current wealth wasn’t from the island anyway; the people would be taking back what was rightfully theirs. Still, he had a feeling his sensei wouldn’t take to his opinion so kindly and chose to refrain from expressing his view further. 

Growing up, Itachi had read Sasuke many revolutionary ideas while gently combing his fingers through his hair in his soft, calming voice that exuded _safety and comfort._

Sasuke was all too familiar with terms that shouldn’t be spoken too loudly, ideologies that depicted ideas of rising up against the bleak despondency of the shinobi system. Books on philosophy, ideal utopias where nobody had to follow orders of a single person—a dictator, the books had labelled Kages. Granted, such books had mostly been written by civilians who had never truly entrenched themselves into the shinobi scene, usually living in the comfort of their peaceful homes yet surprisingly, the Uchihas had many books on such ideas. Kept hidden in their private library alongside their genjutsu scrolls, it was an open secret that Uchihas were… revolutionary. 

Madara Uchiha, the man who sought peace after centuries of fighting against the Senju, was known to have extreme views on unachievable utopias that seemed beautiful on the surface however were executed through brute force—it was why he began losing support from the Uchiha clan. His methods were too violent, too radical when their centuries-long war was over and they now had Hashirama Senju, a man who believed peace could be maintained through diplomacy such as strong relations with clans and other villages. 

Nonetheless, once Madara decimated one third of Iwa’s forces any hope for alliances was dashed aside. 

Any attempts at explaining his reasoning—which was to force Iwa to submit so Konohagakure could rule everyone and stop large-scale conflict—had failed and fear of the warmongering Madara Uchiha increased. 

Sasuke knew all of this because his mother was a descendant of Izuna Uchiha and therefore owned Madara’s journals. So Sasuke knew Madara was not actually as deranged as people made him out to be—he desperately wanted peace due to his horrific, grief inducing loss and went about it in wrong ways that ultimately led to his demise. 

Eventually the taunting had raised the man’s ire and without his own clansmen backing him up, forced his hand to desert the village. Seeing Tobirama Senju, the man who murdered Izuna Uchiha, Madara’s last brother, being groomed to be the next Hokage, caused him to snap. There was no even distribution of power when the two previously warring clans founded Konohagakure together. Madara thought Hashirama was ‘different from the rest’. 

(“How cute,” Shisui had said with a conspiratorial wink while reading the journal with Sasuke. “Our ancestor must have had an itty bitty crush.”) 

Seething, he had fled and thought to himself, “so this was their ploy? To trap the Uchiha?” He had predicted that from this moment, the Uchiha clan would be unfairly prosecuted. A Senju who was still wary of Uchihas being Hashirama’s successor was the nail on the coffin for Madara. 

Nobody in the clan knew how Madara controlled the Kyuubi and challenged Hashirama to a fight to the death. Some whispers of him stealing his brother’s eyes to achieve a level higher than the Mangekyo Sharingan was silenced immediately in fear of giving the villagers even more reasons to distrust the Uchihas. But the village, seeing the vast destruction of the landscape in the newly dubbed ‘Valley of The End’ and heard of the now deceased clan head able to tame the strongest tailed beast, began fearing the Uchiha regardless and the pride of their being: their Sharingan eyes. 

Itachi, despite being heavily loyal to the Hokage at the time with such profound love for the village he had sworn to protect, enjoyed reading books of different systems that could be implemented and fantasised about a world where he no longer had to kill for a living. However, he was staunchly loyal to the current totalitarian government and despite his reservations he would, with minimal resistance, do what they ask of him. 

Sasuke thought he knew just like how he knew the sky was blue and their clan crest was a fan: that Itachi Uchiha’s passion and love for Konoha was infinite. 

Sasuke never understood shinobi whose views of the village were fanatical. The forbidden books labelled such views as “propaganda” and he had to agree. What was so amazing about their village to elicit such pride? He decided to be a shinobi to avenge his clan, not to be disturbingly patriotic and wax poetic about the Will of Fire Sarutobi loves to drone on about. That must have been why Kakashi was so intent on looking from a perspective that would give Konohagakure the upper hand. 

Idly, longingly, Sasuke pondered over living a life where intense, fiery emotions stirred from within at the thought of his home village, a life where he had his clan by his side—because he would do anything for this village if his family fought for it too. They were gone though and buried with them was the loyalty that should have been past down to him. 

Sasuke was always an outlier, a plain-looking puzzle that never seemed to fit in no matter how hard you tried to force it to. A mess of contradictions. A spectator in a sea of hopeful protagonists. His rough edges would never smooth out to please anyone. Where everybody awed at shinobi roof-hopping as kids, all he could do was stare with detached apathy. 

(He should be dead. He should be dead. Why is he alive? Why is he _alive_?)

* * *

Zabuza Momochi’s following attack, while not wholly foreseeable, still managed to tilt Sasuke’s axis sideways. The first two Demon Brothers he and Sakura had taken down was Kakashi’s act of trusting their skill to handle themselves, despite the opponents being chuunins. Now, a jounin from Kirigakure wielding a monstrously sized meat cleaver left his sensei on ridiculously high alert. 

“This man is someone none of you can fight. Leave it to me and protect the bridge builder,” he ordered before sprinting off to engage the missing-nin with rapidly moving hand-signs. 

To Sasuke, it really put into perspective the enormous gap in strength and experience between chuunin and jounin, but considering how Kakashi had immediately recognised the man and the same vice versa, coupled with how they seemed to be even in strength with the endless blows that neither side inflicted damage, he was coming to the conclusion that they were simply one of the best of the best. 

The only fights Sasuke had witnessed on a grand scale like this was between Shisui and Itachi. Sometimes, if Sasuke begged enough as a child, so long as he was at a safe distance away in the private clan training grounds, Itachi would reluctantly allow him to watch his weekly spars with Shisui. Their fights however, while littered with shurikenjutsu and graceful taijutsu was dominatingly genjutsu focused. Sasuke knew that meant he could not really appreciate the complexity of their subtle mind games and invasions as a spectator, making their fights less flashy on a surface level. 

Kakashi and Zabuza did not hold back, ninjutsu after ninjutsu, blow after blow, feint after feint. It was a battle of endurance between the two, one no doubt Kakashi began to lose as soon as he lifted his hitai-ate to rely on his Sharingan from the very start. Zabuza had smirked at how he was immediately being taken seriously by such an infamous shinobi. 

To put it simply, his sensei's body was not built for a Sharingan. The Senjus in their feud never stole Sharingans for themselves for a reason. It clashed dangerously with their larger chakra reserves, limiting their one true advantage as a ninjutsu heavy clan. Unbeknownst to outsiders, doujutsu theft has happened before to Uchihas, still it would never last long—their enemies would at the end grow so tired, listless and soul-damaged that they would pluck the presumed cursed eye out themselves. 

What they didn’t understand was that the Sharingan was seen as a blessing from the deities Uchihas worshipped, therefore to be wielded by Uchihas only. To be placed on someone else went against their wishes and punishment would be given to them soon. Uchihas liked to call this divine timing. For this reason, a non-Uchiha would never be able to fully control the Sharingan, and it would feed on the thief's chakra unnecessarily until they collapse from exhaustion. The fact that Kakashi never gave up and continued to use the Sharingan with practice that spoke of years of mastery showed his perseverance of honouring his best friend’s death and final wish. 

As the fight continued, the Sharingan’s demanding price seemed to take its toll and Kakashi made a careless mistake of standing near the water, only to be encased in a water prison. 

Panicked, Sasuke’s Sharingan was on and active out of desperation. Kakashi had warned him to only use the Sharingan in times of great danger. 

“Oh, an Uchiha with a sharingan. And I thought you all died,” Zabuza mused with piqued interest. Sasuke gulped at the analytical, appraising gaze of the demon clad in human skin. “You—your eyes even would sell quite well on the black market. I’d make a lot of money with you. Yes, once I’m done killing the bridge builder and everyone else, you’re coming with me.” 

Sasuke’s blood turned to ice, ears ringing at the casual dehumanisation and the potential pain and being caged up for someone else’s gain. 

It was one thing to be warned about the dangers that came with being the last survivor of a clan with a rich, powerful bloodline and another thing to experience the hunger, the greed for money and the manic, bloodthirsty acts of his enemy. Memories of his aunts and uncles telling him stories of the greatness of their eyes and how the Uchiha legacy made them feared and coveted. Black markets, human trafficking and doujutsu theft was a cautionary tale for young children and the reason why the Uchihas were such a tight-knit community. 

The temperature dropped and _Sasuke couldn’t breathe_. Kakashi was out of commission, Sakura was guarding Tazuna and Sasuke’s only back-up was Naruto—fucking Naruto, just great. Was this it, then? Was his life over before it could even begin? Could he never avenge— 

“Fuck you, no-brows!” Naruto yelled from his position beside him. “You’re not doing shit to Sasuke, ya hear me?” 

Grounding. Naruto was his anchor, the only force stopping him from breaking down in front of the enemy. 

In and out. 

Sasuke’s Sharingan focused on the demon and the makings of a plan formed in his head and Naruto, who immediately understood what he was attempting to do, offered his help. Two inexperienced genin with far too much to live for, far too many people to prove wrong and surpass, joined forces. 

As soon as the plan worked, the missing-nin with a wounded pride leapt to end their existence and as a result Kakashi Hatake in his blazing, electrifying glory escaped from his cage and stared down Zabuza, mismatched eyes promising fury more consuming than Hell itself. 

Mesmerising in a rattling way. Sasuke could simply not look away, only watch as his sensei absolutely decimated the missing-nin. Like a switch was flipped and a warrior was fighting with sheer will-power alone. 

And just as Kakashi was about to deal the final killing blow, a few senbon shot out to stab Zabuza’s neck with startling precision. 

A small figure in a mask materialised, claiming to have been searching for Zabuza for ages to execute for betraying his village Kirigakure. 

Sasuke hummed. The timing was too perfect. He looked over at Kakashi, whose composure was faltering and decided to say nothing. 

“But sensei, they’re so young!” Naruto looked disturbed, face twisting with disapproval and Sasuke suddenly wanted to laugh. (That seemed to be common recently and it was always caustic, the musings of an onlooker drifting in and out of consciousness.) 

“In the world we live in, you’ll come across shinobi younger than you with more experience than you and perhaps even stronger than you. This is not uncommon.” 

The masked wearing hunter-nin was eerily silent, not offering any input to Kakashi’s claim. 

All Sasuke could picture was Itachi at thirteen-years-old, mass murderer of one of the strongest clans in shinobi history and inwardly shuddered because Kakashi was right. 

The normalisation of children with too much talent forfeiting their childhood was common, even in a seemingly innocent village such as Konohagakure. Any hopes of finding a perfect prodigy was always open, especially after Kakashi Hatake’s fearful reputation and Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage and whereas Itachi Uchiha created fear over prodigies rising through the ranks too soon they were still highly regarded. A smidge of talent or abnormal chakra control and you were suddenly convinced or forced by your parents to become a shinobi and bring respect and honour to your family. 

It left shells of a human being, shinobis who only knew how to follow orders, who only knew touch that had violent undertones, who only understood any form of supposed intimacy through seduction, espionage missions, who were far too young to have the same empty look in their eyes that veterans also shared. 

Sasuke was far too aware of what he was getting himself into when he graduated from the academy. Sometimes he wished he could be as ignorant as Naruto or as optimistic as Sakura. All Sasuke could feel was time slipping away from his fingers, creeping from behind to remind him of his goal of killing That Man before it was too late. Because unlike others, Sasuke had a purpose. He would not question the state of the shinobi world and the hidden atrocities and war crimes. No, Sasuke’s sole reason for existing was to avenge his clansmen and allow his family to truly rest in peace. Whether he had to destroy himself in the process didn’t matter. 

He was losing himself, losing his goal, losing his sight. A constant reminder was needed to keep him sane. 

Sasuke Uchiha would not fall—not yet.

* * *

Memories of the raspy, guttural voice of Zabuza threatening to sell Sasuke was on a never-ending loop. 

Soon after Kakashi fainted, along with the help of Tazuna, Sakura carried him back to the old man’s house. It was a humble house, situated right next to the vast, encompassing sea with a dock attached. Nature sang its timeless tune, harmonised in a way that Konohagakure never was. 

Cataloguing his every move, Naruto’s gaze on his back was relaxing in a way it wouldn’t be if he didn’t trust him. (But he did and it scared him because That Man said he had to kill his closest friend and—oh god, he almost got sold—he’s too _too weak, too fucking weak-)_

“Sasuke, you should rest,” Naruto murmured quietly against his ear. (Where did he come from? He wasn’t here a second ago. Was he that out of it?). “Go to sleep. Sakura’s already in the room they left for us. Come on, let’s go.” 

“Okay, let me just—I’ll just go to the bathroom first,” he replied, leaving the hall to lock himself inside. 

All at once, his teetering state ripped at the seams and he bit his tongue to hold back any screams, substituting his fist instead once the iron taste of blood assaulted his tongue. Sharingan excruciatingly flickering on and off as the semblance of order he created by repressing his memories and negative emotions caused a disarray and backlash so strong he was almost convinced nothing could be more painful. 

Curled like a dog on the bathroom floor, Sasuke wondered if it was so bad if he gave up already. Death was the reprieve he needed and a part of him that he could no longer ignore craved it.

For the Uchihas’ weakness was that they felt too strong. 

Perhaps it was hours, maybe only twenty minutes—Sasuke didn’t know—but a few loud knocks followed by Naruto’s voice asking him to join them in the spare bedroom, and he got up, washed his face, red-rimmed eyes staring back at him from the cracked, blurry mirror, his bare arms full of deep crescents where he dug his fingers in. He methodically scrubbed the blood away, showered but was mindful to not touch the hot water since he was only a guest and didn’t need it—didn’t deserve it—and joined the rest. 

Sasuke felt heavy, tired in a way that he sometimes felt when the world seemed too cold, too cruel. 

He almost died today. He almost never got to avenge his family. (He almost never got to see his older brother again, his only family left in the world). 

So he promised himself once again to become so powerful, so untouchable and so skilled that he would never be threatened and vulnerable ever again. 

Footsteps light and ghost-like (How funny. Sasuke felt like an apparition, haunting and haunted, floating in circles with his only purpose being revenge before he could ever move on, bitter and resentful) he opened the door and watched his other two teammates laying on their separate futons beside each other. 

“Sasuke!” Sakura greeted him with an excited whisper. 

Matching her enthusiasm was impossible after his breakdown. He merely hummed and plopped down onto the futon that was in the middle of the two, ungracefully. 

“The bastard’s tired, huh? Guess we gotta sleep too, Sakura,” said Naruto. 

“I don’t wanna hear your ugly voice. Just make sure you shut up.” Sasuke flipped him off and Naruto let out an “eh?” which was what he always did before starting a shouting match. 

Sensing the impending headache that would cause, Sakura slapped the back of his head before he could raise his voice and he leaned back and cried, “Sakura! Why? Your slaps hurt so much.” 

“That was my softest hit. It could be so much worse. Be quiet and let Sasuke rest,” she ordered, crunching her fists together in a warning. 

“S-scary. You’ve really gotten so much scarier since we graduated, y’know?” he whispered with mock-fear. 

Smug, she got up, closed the light and laid down to Sasuke’s right and replied, “I take that as a compliment.” 

Bickering as softly as possible back and forth, Sasuke dozed off to the sound and slept an almost dreamless sleep with the vaguest hint of a pink and orange sunset. 

* * *

Thankfully, Kakashi woke up the next day in the afternoon, tensing up as soon as Naruto tried to sneakily look under his mask (Sasuke absolutely did not also want to look). Bandages wrapped around his middle that Sakura applied lowered and fell to his thighs as he sat up and stretched his body unhurried. 

The trio sat in a line in front of their sensei, Naruto enthusiastically saying how he missed him and Sakura tearfully agreeing. 

“We thought you wouldn’t wake up,” Naruto whined, stomping his foot, childishly. “It was so not cool of you to just faint like that, dattebayo!” 

“My cute, little genin are so sweet. Sasuke, did you miss me too?” 

Puffing his cheeks out, Sasuke glared at him. “No.” 

As Kakashi patted his head, absentmindedly, Sasuke ducked his head, glare intensified. “You—Stop it!” 

Kakashi’s eyes then landed on his arms that still bore the near faded marks from his breakdown and his demeanour became more somber. A loud exhale and he faced his genin team and in a surprising act of sincerity, pulled down his mask. 

His bare face appeared exhausted, dark eye bags and a pale, sickly face. His angular jaw seemed so much more prominent, and unexpectedly, a beauty mark was right on his chin. All in all, he looked fairly ordinary—definitely classically handsome—but again, nothing special and especially nothing worth wearing a large mask for. 

Reading his sensei’s emotions never felt so easy. Reading Kakashi’s feelings from body language and a single eye alone was tough. 

Ignoring the genin’s gaping, their sensei tackled on. “This situation is my responsibility entirely. I’m very proud of how you all handled yourselves against such a shinobi. I—you should have run away. Why didn’t you listen to me?” 

“Running away wouldn’t have done anything. I’m almost certain Zabuza had an accomplice—not that I knew at the time—and if we ran away, Tazuna could have been in an even bigger danger. And… you said those that abandon their comrades are worse than trash, so how could we leave you, sensei?” 

“Sasuke…” 

How could he get the stupid man to stop making that expression? Sasuke wanted to rip it off. it made his chest ache and his soul long for something he didn’t deserve, should not replace. 

“I’m just saying—getting another sensei would be annoying, wouldn’t it, Naruto, Sakura?” 

Naruto nodded his head. “The bastard’s right.” 

And Sakura agreed. “As long as you never abandon us, we’ll never abandon you.” 

“So you noticed the accomplice, Sasuke?” 

“So did Sakura.” 

“Sakura?” 

“Yes, Sensei. I did. Sasuke and I discussed the possibility of the masked hunter-nin being an accomplice. The timing of their appearance was suspicious and I sensed them nearby while you were distracted fighting Zabuza. I decided not to say anything because of your condition and we didn’t know their skill level.” 

“Good. So your chakra sensing improved, I take it? Well done, Sakura.” He smiled at her to which she beamed back in return. “So you all know what this means? I’d say Zabuza has about a week of a recovery period before he seeks us out again and tries to kill Tazuna. That’s about the same amount of time I need to recover as well.” At Sakura’s concerned look, he brushed her off. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be able to train you.” 

Naruto’s head moved back and forth, trying to keep up with the conversation he was accidentally left out of. “Wha—Accomplice? Zabuza’s alive? Huh?” 

“I am sorry. I failed you—all of you and I do regret that. Just know, I’ll protect you all. I promise I will. I—I have to. I will. What you went through isn’t what rookie genin should experience.” 

Guilt—guilt towards him. Sasuke hated that. He rubbed his arms self-consciously and ignored Sakura who sadly watched him. 

Kakashi did make him feel sort of safer, though. The protectiveness, the assurance. It was a foreign but not unwelcome sentiment. He could only hope his sensei was able to stick to his words. 

* * *

Sakura Haruno knew pity like the back of her hand. 

Over the years of being a citizen of Konohagakure and recently a newly-minted Konoichi, she received many snide comments varying on certain degrees of judgement. As soon as the sun rays hit her hitai-ate tied up as a hair band, eyes would slant, expressions would tighten and her stomach would drop to the floor, awaiting the perspicacity of adults she had grown up with her whole life. 

As a child, she would be tear-stricken with a snot nosed face—she would cower, hiding herself to escape the cruelty of those who mocked others for no reason other than pure entertainment. Academy instructors merely tutted and encouraged her to either grow a spine or drop out if she couldn’t handle playground teasing. 

But it _hurt._ It hurt so much for children to put emphasis on her larger than average forehead, her old, colourless shirts passed down from her mother, her pink hair and her love for books. 

Sakura’s parents were nothing special; they were your average grocery sellers at the market in the main street of the village, with just enough financial income to scrape by, so once Sakura expressed her desire to join the Shinobi Academy, they immediately signed her up, in hopes that their single child could bring them the financial stability and status they desired in an ever-changing village such as Konohagakure. 

While concerns over her physical well-being were brought up, it was overturned with the witness of her large pile of thick books on the desk in her box-sized bedroom, as she furiously flipped through each book with rapid succession at such a young age. To absolve them from the guilt of placing Sakura in a dangerous environment, they noted her high intelligence to convince them that she would go far and do the Haruno name proud like never before. 

At her parents’ enthusiasm, she continued to read, to memorise until her brain could no longer process words deep into the night. Countless days spent perfecting her grades were all worth it knowing that she would receive another soft smile from her precious mum and dad. 

Disadvantages were scattered in front of her, increasing in its size to try and trip her up as the academy days flew by quickly. Sakura kept her head held up high in hopes of surviving it all. For her parents she would do absolutely anything, go through any type of Hell to keep them smiling the same soft smile directed at her. 

Over the years their features had wrinkled, stress and age festering on a bone-deep weariness that seemed to never leave, yet hope still prevailed, hope in their only daughter, as the chances of having another child was low due to Mebuki Haruno’s weak, frail body. 

If Sakura failed, it was over and she could only do this alone, she had no backing of a clan, no support outside her parents’ empty words. 

At the top of her class for as long as she could remember was Sasuke Uchiha, the sole survivor of the massacre of his clan. Caught in a trance, she watched him deftly ram all of the weapons onto the wooden projectile with a bullseye in barely concealed awe. Him maintaining his number one spot despite the tragedy that befell him, his constant vigilance for his skills made him all the more appealing and before Sakura knew it, she was crushing hard. 

There was no true depth to her feelings—he was cute and strong and Sakura wanted to see him thrive and felt like he deserved it most. But above all, Sakura wanted him to see _her._ Sasuke’s utmost opinion for an adolescent Sakura meant far more than it should have. 

Because nobody knew how hard Sakura had to work to catch up to children born into shinobi households, whose genes were wired for such a physically demanding job. No, she started with absolutely nothing, the bare scraps yet her mind carried her when she faltered. Her near perfect memory was the miracle she needed to beat many people. 

So it wasn’t surprising when as teammates, his total disregard of her, even going as far as to say she didn’t understand the risks of the occupation she literally fucking worked towards her whole life for, caused something deep within her vibrant core to implode and wholly expletively too. 

A tight coil was wrapped around her chest, forcing her to adhere to societal standards a few girls around her seemed to illustrate brazenly, often in a scheme to attract Sasuke’s attention. Years of analysing the way clan-born children acted in a desperate attempt to fit in without the label of a poor civilian attached to her name, Sakura mastered the art of projecting the persona of an innocent, unassuming girl. 

The moment the coil snapped, Sakura let go and breathed deeply for the first time in so long. 

Sasuke noticed the change and finally smiled at her—she bared her fangs at him, crassly. 

There was no hiding now; Naruto and Sasuke both made it clear that there was no need. With the new dynamic, the horrific love triangle in their group died out, replaced with a special bond that could only be described as preliminary. 

New, tentative and oh-so-fragile, the two orphans were traumatised in a way Sakura hoped to never understand. The isolation for Sakura was only on a personal level where everyday she hung around people with superficial ideals, in and out, never truly content in her space. With the boys, she was free to unequivocally be herself, no limitations, as vulgar as she pleased, as unprecedentedly violent as she sometimes got. She was in her element, freedom resting on the tip of her tongue. 

Sasuke and Naruto were innocent in the way that stereotypes and gender norms were discarded due to having no true father figure to force such wisdom upon them. At the beginning of the spars, Naruto tried a bastard form of chivalry, only to earn the hardest punch Sakura could muster. (“You fucking idiot! Do you think a girl fighting you would go easy on you because you’re a boy?”) After that, such limitations on himself were thrown out of the window, never to be brought up again. 

Genjutsu resonated within Sakura more than anything she had ever tried. Weaving layer after layer of innocuous details—one small mistake and instant failure… It was so exhilarating. She felt invincible, untraceable, like she was twenty steps ahead and everybody else just learned how to crawl. Wonder filled her the more she discovered and the art of illusions welcomed her back. 

Day after day, she would ask for more scrolls until Kakashi got fed up with her pestering and told her that he was no longer authorised to hand her more and she should ask Sasuke for scrolls instead, who was also studying Genjutsu. For him to toss her a scroll with a large Uchiwa fan at the front without a spare glance was heartwarming. She did scream in his face after all—but to be fair he insulted her first so… 

Not the point! 

The notes and advice were so detailed, so beautifully and intellectually written that Sakura fell in love with the unpopular art even more. Sasuke’s clan truly were masters of Genjutsu, for such precision and advanced thinking explained all the more why they were so feared. One scroll led to another and soon enough she was practicing with Sasuke every few days and sharing advice on Genjutsu. Just like her, he immediately picked up on illusions like it was second nature to him. 

While time with Sasuke was peaceful and educational, moments spent with Naruto was a rollercoaster of noise, emotions and ramen. 

Naruto was unlike anyone she had ever met before. At the academy, he asked her out almost everyday, annoying her so much she began “hating” on him by default. The attention was unwelcome and his advances were aggravating (she would later understand that was possibly exactly how Sasuke felt). She didn’t understand him. She didn’t want to because he was Naruto and Naruto was a silly class clown who barely even graduated. 

Sakura never stopped to consider that there was more than meets the eye to Naruto. At first he was a boy with no parents who yelled too much and wore the ugliest shade of orange she had ever seen in her life. 

She didn’t want to admit that Naruto was more similar to her than anyone else. 

Both in denial that they didn’t fit in—both desperate for a semblance of attention and acceptance. 

It was so glaringly obvious and Naruto saw that as well. Every time Kakashi absentmindedly looked down on her, he was always there to cheer her up and always there to snark back and forth with their sensei, disagreeing instantly. 

Nobody had ever stood up to her in such a bold manner since Ino. 

And she didn’t deserve it. Not when she treated him so awfully, so dismissively. 

To bear such hatred, a village’s worth, with a bright grin and harmless pranks highlighted Naruto’s bravery. How kind of him. How forgiving of him. 

But Sakura wanted him to rage, to fight back and shove a middle finger at everyone who dared treat an innocent child so disgracefully. The village she was so proud of abandoned a child and left him to fend for himself. Why? 

Because Sakura only felt annoyed by Naruto’s incessant nagging for a date. There was no true malice in her actions. She was too self-absorbed in her own little world of trying her hardest to succeed honourably as a shinobi, a kunoichi. 

Eyes a shade darker than before, the blond could only smile gently and shake his head. “I saw you. Maybe you didn’t see me then but you see me now and that’s more than enough.” 

Sakura cried. 

He really was unlike anyone she had ever met before—except herself. 

So understanding, perceptive in his own unique way. He was special. 

Both of her boys were special. 

She was attached to them like a limb, her first true connection to a person other than Ino motivating her all the more to catch up and be a worthy teammate they could be proud of. Training her body like never before with the advice from Kakashi, Sakura pushed herself past her limits and rejoiced at the progress displayed in spars. 

So some random fucking missing-nin (Zabuza Momochi, Demon of Kirigakure—she knew him) threatening to sell Sasuke like he was some sort of meat or rare artifact raised her ire like never before. She almost impulsively began yelling profanities at him from her position of guarding Tazuna but had to remind herself to not let Naruto influence her in such a critical moment of the fight. 

Once Kakashi had fainted after his fight and was carried to Tazuna’s house, Sakura couldn’t help but stare at Sasuke, whose hands were trembling and red with blood stuck in his fingernails. She watched his pupils dilate erratically, his breaths quicken and Sakura vowed to herself she would never let him suffer alone. 

The moment he acknowledged her as a teammate, of all of them as a part of Team 7, a dysfunctional group of lost teenagers with too much weight pushing them down, she knew she would never be able to let go of either of them. For they were hers and she was theirs, whether they intended for this or not. Whether they realised it yet or not. Far too many had given up on them. She would not do the same.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry for the late update i lost track of time haha happy new year tho!! im sorry if this fic can seem ramble-ly n messy it’s mostly just v self-indulgent and my way of trying to be productive i just really love sasuke and i think the naruto universe is so fascinating too. if u ever wanna share ideas or anythinggg u can always find me on twt @sasuterasu but until next time


	4. change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t care.” Blue met black, unrelenting as it pierced his soul down to its deepest, most rotten, hate-filled core. “I’ll protect you anyway. You’re allowed to want things, Sasuke. You’re allowed to be happy.”
> 
> And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Sasuke was denying himself the feelings he ultimately deserved to have. It seemed that no matter what, he would always unconsciously find ways to tear his very being down.
> 
> Naruto could dissect his emotions with such ease. Sasuke didn’t know if this was a trait he possessed for everyone, if his face was that expressive, or if there was a connection between them that transcended explicability itself.

Despite their sensei’s heartfelt apology the other day, his attitude seemed to be generally the same. If this was his attempt at making his students feel relaxed, Sasuke couldn’t say with certainty that it worked. The possibility of a razor, manic grin, a large sword pointing threateningly at him and his teammates was enough to make his hands clammy and his heart race. Dwelling on the inevitable fight however would do nothing but he couldn’t deny that he was dreadfully anticipating it.

Kakashi either noticed his restlessness or felt he was capable of advancing further with his ninjutsu as he beckoned him forward. 

Trees kept their bodies hidden and anyone willing to attack a shinobi hailing from Konohagakure in their area of expertise was suicidal. Relatively, they would be safe. Traps of the highest calibre were set out.

“Now, I’m going to teach you a jutsu. This is a jutsu you can only perform with a Sharingan and we’ve worked a bit on yours,” his sensei began explaining to him. “The jutsu is lightning style. Your nature transformation is at a good enough stage to learn a higher ranked jutsu. If only I had enough time to work more on your speed, although it is not as bad as it could have been. It’ll have to do for now. It’s called Chidori. It’s my… assassination technique.”

He stared at Sasuke for any sign of hesitation.

Sasuke stared back, face purposefully blank.

“It’s also my signature technique.” 

Now that had Sasuke’s eyebrows raising. A signature technique? That’s the type of jutsu to pass down to your protégée or family—not the genin you were forced to undertake due to political reasons. 

“I understand it’s sudden but I need you to be as prepared as possible and if the moment arises, kill. Can you do that, Sasuke?”

Sasuke scoffed. “Yes.”

Kakashi leaned in. “You will be responsible for a death. You will be the reason a person never wakes up ever again. You will have that on your conscience for the rest of your life.”

Gulping anxiously, Sasuke avoided Kakashi’s eyes that were blazing holes into him. “I know that,” he retorted. “We went over first kills at the academy. You don’t need to lecture me.”

“Good.”

“Sensei… you have over a thousand jutsus. Why teach me your signature move?”

Laughing, Kakashi shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe because I see myself in you. You remind me of myself when I was your age, angry and alone.” Sasuke shivered.

“You know, you should give up on your revenge. I’ve seen many people go down that path and it never ends well. It destroys you. And you’ll soon end up hurting everyone around you. You have teammates that truly care for you. Why not become a shinobi to protect them?”

Taken aback, Sasuke defensively crossed his arms to shield himself from the onslaught of his sensei’s presumed wisdom. He would never, _never_ hurt his teammates; he wasn’t Itachi. Why did everyone see Itachi when they looked at him—a ticking time bomb that would obliterate everything in its path? Even when That Man was long gone, his existence would forever torment him.

Sasuke didn’t know why Kakashi thought having a deep, one sided conversation just when he was about to learn a new jutsu was the most opportune time but the man had a record of being insufferable like that, no matter how serious he was. “What is your point?”

“What I’m trying to say is if you push everyone that cares about you away you’ll end up wallowing in regrets and living a life of no purpose. What will you do once you kill Itachi?” Sasuke looked down. “You need to understand that you’re not alone and centering your life around one purpose is dangerous.”

“Don’t lecture me.” Trembling, Sasuke forced himself to look back up at his sensei. “You people don’t understand. You’ll never understand because you don’t want to! If I don’t go to him first he’ll come for me. He’ll kill anybody close to me. He’ll—He’ll force me to gain the Mang—He’ll do whatever it takes to fight me. I _have_ to. For my clan, for their souls to rest easy knowing the kinslayer is dead. You all think I’m insane! I know you do—but the fate of hundreds of Uchihas’ retribution rests on my shoulders. So don’t lecture me. Don’t act like you understand because the way you speak to me shows you don’t. You will never carry this burden.”

Wild, unfiltered desperation was seared into his features. His voice cracked. “I’m not an idiot so don’t treat me like one!” 

Explaining his reasoning behind his motivations was useless; nobody ever tried to understand him. Maybe it was the detachment from such a tragedy—the Uchiha district was so far away from the rest of Konohagakure and it wasn’t like they were approachable before the massacre took place—or maybe it was his age. (“What would a young boy understand? He was only seven years old.”) 

But Sasuke was Itachi Uchiha’s brother. With his celestial Sharingan, he sees. And he judges. 

There was that everlasting patience that he grew to detest from Kakashi’s method of speaking with such simplicity. As if anything between them was ever simple. It always threw him off and emphasised his inexperience with young genin but that never made him get off the hook. “Sasuke, everyone I’ve ever loved—” 

“—is dead, I know. I know, okay? I _know_! And I’m sorry but I am not you. I can’t live passively, live continuing my life doing absolutely nothing.” 

“What are you—” 

His words were aiming to maim, to hurt him more than anything and nitpick all his deepest insecurities the same way he did to him. “All you do is perpetuate the cycle that killed everyone you loved. At least, I’m not living in denial. I know killing Itachi won’t bring my clan back but I’m letting their souls rest so Itachi faces punishment in the afterlife. I don’t… I don’t…” He was so tired all of a sudden. At the last minute, his expression closed off. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’ll learn this jutsu in a week. Watch me.” 

Kakashi’s jaw was set so tightly, but his single eye held a raw understanding that Sasuke has never seen reciprocated before. Solemnly, he raised a hand, gave one last nod and headed back to Tazuna’s house. 

A large tear was forcefully ripped down the middle, separating the two further than before. The surreal conversation was a wake up call for Sasuke. The only person he could ever unconditionally rely on was himself. Connections were useless and only existed to set him back. But he would rise up. He had to. 

* * *

As the days passed by residing in Tazuna’s house and settling into a routine of vigorous training, Sasuke noticed his daughter, Tsunami’s reluctance to engage in any conversation with them. Caring for them and showing basic hospitality, yes, but she never went further than that. Confused, Sasuke wondered if they intimidated her or if she was simply very reserved. Her son Inari was even worse, sending outright sneers towards them. 

When he explained his findings to Sakura, she laughed. “Civilians don’t like what they don’t understand,” she patiently said. “As shinobi, we have the potential of destruction on a scale that civilians can’t comprehend as well as the fact that civilians oftentimes end up as collateral damage.” 

Kakashi, sitting beside them, closed his book and nodded his head. “You’re right, Sakura. In wars, before the founding of the shinobi villages and even after, civilians have always ended up hurt by shinobi conflict. Many shinobi see civilians outside their own villages as insignificant or a ‘necessary sacrifice’ due to their general inability to access chakra. Villages full of civilians have been destroyed by jutsus, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not. There’s been moments where those villages got reconstructed into war zones after so you could argue for either.” 

“What’s even more is—not all shinobi will have the same morals. And if a shinobi decides to harm a civilian be it for personal gratification or revenge, a civilian has no means to defend themselves. Chakra is generally out of reach for them to harness despite all of the benefits it could have for construction work, labour and essential jobs,” Sakura went on to say with a finger in the air. “Chakra doesn’t _need_ to be a tool of violence. Its applications are endless.” 

Sakura seemed so passionate when speaking about all of the complex relationships between shinobi and civilians that the topic of Tsunami and Inari was mostly forgotten. Sakura had a fountain of knowledge stored up in her mind. A strong spirit and he knew that one day her body would match as well. 

“That’s an interesting perspective, Sakura.” And Kakashi meant it. Civilian born shinobi, while common, were mostly unknown chuunins. He didn’t get to interact with them much due to most of his time in ANBU and even before that, very high ranked missions that require mostly jounins. Such views were not something he was privy to hear. “People could argue against it because they feel like civilians would misuse it and that it could backfire on them dangerously.” 

“I think that’s just an excuse to preserve the order in the shinobi world,” Sasuke said, tilting his head like an eager cat. “If shinobi are misusing chakra already what differences does a civilian doing it make? It’s not like they could actually put up a fight against people who trained to use chakra since they were children.” 

Grinning, Sakura tapped her forehead. “Exactly! And contrary to popular belief, there are loads of ways to manipulate chakra that mean unlocking it at a young age or your genetics don’t matter. That’s a common misconception. Chakra is your life force. There’s always a way to use it. Besides, civilians don’t need so much chakra since it isn’t for fighting anyway.” 

“How do you know all of this?” Kakashi looked a little nervous. “Is this allowed?” 

Rolling her eyes, Sakura shrugged her shoulders and said, “Does it really matter? And I just read a lot, so I know things. After a while I got bored and then it started to get easy to read between the lines.” 

“Wow, you guys are quite radical. Strange, where did it come from? Because it definitely wasn’t from me.” Sasuke kept his mouth shut and Sakura followed. “Just remind yourselves not to say this in front of anyone else.” Kakashi’s tone was humorous but both genins heard the warning he gave out to them. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyways, civilians actually prefer samurais!” Sakura said, excitedly. 

Naruto returned from his training and upon hearing Sakura’s exclamation, let out a loud, “Really? But ninjas are so cool.” 

She welcomed Naruto into the conversation like he was already there, since he usually joined discussions midway and interpreted ideas however he wanted to—sitting in a position for a long time was hard for him to keep up sometimes when he was feeling extra energetic. “Samurais have a code of honour and strong morals they stick to. This means they are far more friendly to civilians, not to mention that they rarely use any ninjutsu that doesn’t involve their swords so civilians are never in the crossfire of their fights.” 

“That does make sense.” 

“Samurais haven’t been ruling the Elemental Nations for a couple of centuries now, though. The chakra development of the ninja arts led to the almost extinction of Samurai. They reside primarily in the Land of Iron now and after an agreement—more like a threat, if you ask me—are heavily neutral in shinobi conflict. A lot of shinobi clans are descendants of samurais and there are areas that are still influenced by samurais like Kirigakure and Kumogakure.” 

“Yes, my family descended from samurais.” 

“The Hatake clan?” Sasuke asked. Sakumo Hatake, although rarely mentioned in lessons at the academy, was a name he had come across before. The White Fang: a man stronger than even the Legendary Sannin. Not much was written about the man in the history books for some reason. All that was implied was his strength and his notoriety amongst the Elemental Nations as well as his death, although the cause was not disclosed. 

“Mhm, it’s only me now, though,” he confirmed with false cheer. 

Huh, they truly were alike then. Sasuke suddenly felt guilty about his outburst. Kakashi lost lots of people right? Almost everyone? And he used that knowledge to hurt him. ( _But didn’t Kakashi do the same thing? He used the knowledge of Itachi to try and force you to stop chasing the only reason you wake up in the morning._ ) 

_(But what if he came from a place of concern? Are you going to shut out everyone?)_

He aggressively shoved those thoughts away because it didn’t matter and Sasuke wouldn’t regret his actions. Because he was protecting himself when nobody else would. 

“How can that happen?” Naruto asked. 

“Time. The Hatake clan weren’t too big on clan traditions and preserving their blood like some others may do. Intermarrying with other clans was popular once Konohagakure was founded, even before actually. We were good allies with the Senju and the Sarutobi. Well, we weren’t really a big clan to begin with, you see. The reason we lasted through the warring clans era unlike so many others was that despite our smaller numbers the shinobi we _did_ produce were exceptional.” 

As far as Sasuke could tell, the Uchiha clan was generally the opposite. Most of them residing in the clan compound were civilians—only a third of the clan were shinobi but everyone was well versed in shinobi etiquette. Although similar to the Hatakes the Uchiha shinobis ended up becoming exceptional as well. Becoming a shinobi in his clan was a choice for the most part, unless you were part of the main family or closely related. Everyone else helped out as much as they could by being supportive, creating weapons and passing down heirlooms to the next generation. 

Uchihas valued family above everything else. 

So for _him_ to kill everyone, his own family was the largest betrayal ever. Itachi always seemed like he could control his emotions so well but to have the capacity to commit the worst sin ever—something had to be seriously wrong with his head, his soul, his very being. Wretched, cursed and only Sasuke could vanquish him. 

“It wasn’t until the honourable Tobirama Senju began implementing institutions and councils that allowed more voices to be heard that civilians could join the academy. Traditional clans such as the Shimura and the Hyuuga were very against the development. Thus, the first wave of non-clan born shinobi came to existence. Still, you know how lacklustre passing down techniques that you learn at the academy can be. Sure, you might pick up a few things here and there during your missions far away if you’re lucky enough but the techniques passed down from clans? It’s basically encoded in your genes for you.” 

“That’s so cool, Sakura!” With hearts in his eyes, Naruto sent her a thumbs up that she returned. “I don’t know how you make history lessons sound so interesting. I mean, history at the academy— _bah!_ I fell asleep. So what then, you’re gonna change the way civilians are seen by shinobi in the village?” 

Shyly, Sakura ducked her head. “Yeah. You know, I’m the only non-clan born graduate that was placed in a jounin led team this year. I get that there were loads of clan heirs graduating this year too but still, I feel like civilians deserve to also serve Konoha to the best of their ability instead of being seen as replaceable cannon fodder. Yeah, it’s sure bad right now, but I’ll change it! I’ll prove to everyone that silly labels don’t matter. We’re all inheriting the Will of Fire.” 

“What about me?” Naruto was feeling excluded from Sakura’s passionate rant. 

“What about you?” 

“Well, I’m not one of those clan kids and I graduated. What about me?” 

A little lost, Sakura said, “I know you’re an orphan but aren’t you an Uzumaki?” 

“What?” 

“The Uzumaki clan? From Uzushiogakure. Although Kumo and Kiri destroyed the village, some survivors fled. Come on, at least one of your parents’ got to be Uzumaki! Those large chakra reserves can’t be anything else, can it?” 

“That's enough, Sakura,” Kakashi said, sternly. His body was rigid and he looked seconds away from combusting. 

“Did I say something wro—” 

“You’re fine,” he interjected. “Just… You should be more mindful of your words. You just told Naruto that his supposed clan were mostly exterminated by two villages.” 

“Oh, Naruto… I’m so sorry. I don’t even know if what I said was true. I just—sometimes I regurgitate information but it could be inaccurate. You know, I don’t even remember the name of the book! Haha!” She winced. “You know what? Why don’t you forget I even said anything?” 

But the damage had already been done. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Dinner at first was silent, tense, with stilted conversations and fake smiles. Sasuke felt like he was intruding and tried his hardest to hide his discomfort at the strange atmosphere. 

It all changed on a day like no other, where Sakura was eating less once again and Sasuke decided to add some more rice onto her plate. 

“Ah, sorry about that, Sasuke. Old habits die hard,” she whispered. “Thank you, though.” 

Grunting in reply, he continued eating and listened in on the rest of the conversation which then took into a turn about Tsunami’s dead husband who tried to rise up against Gatou’s tyranny and was gruesomely murdered to be made an example of, resulting in the village losing hope. _All the more reason to kill that man._

It was admirable for a man with no training in chakra or even taijutsu to challenge Gatou who owned an army of thugs at his disposal. To believe so thoroughly in a cause with so much noble dedication left Sasuke feeling equally parts enamoured and sick. (Nothing about his actions were truly just or noble. Fratricide was never acceptable. Sometimes he was scared for the afterlife, to wonder what punishment he would face for even contemplating it). But still, the action itself was suicidal. And it left Sasuke realising how much he relied on his own power above all. 

Chewing impassively, he watched the little brat yell that his team were all going to die and how Gatou would win like he always did. 

Passionate and justice seeking like he was, Naruto took the child’s proclaims that clearly stemmed from heavy trauma seriously and made some speech about heroes—Naruto and his speeches, man. Sasuke was getting sick of them. 

No matter how much he found Inari annoying, he was right when he said heroes don’t exist. Waiting for a hero to save you is pointless and a waste of time. Sasuke had to pick up the pieces of his shattered being all alone and now he was barely functional—running on spite and anger and a thirst for vengeance alone. Heroes in a world that thrives on violence and brutality is impossible. A hero to one person could be a villain, a boogeyman to another. Perspectives were important and illustrated that nothing is absolute. 

Sasuke didn’t care if people only ever saw him as a villain. Only his clan mattered. No crime, no sacrifice was too big for his clan and if he has to forfeit his brother’s life then so be it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Just like him, Naruto was also given ninjutsu to learn in case more enemies turned up and attacked their team. Three fairly simple wind jutsus were already taught as Naruto had gotten the hand of manipulating his nature transformation before the mission as well. Sakura had not yet reached that point but it was fine as her reserves did not fill out completely yet. They only would once her diet became as healthy and balanced as possible for a young, growing kunoichi. 

Initially, envy had gripped his chest but they were only C-ranks. Naruto was not going to also get taught such a high ranking jutsu. However Sasuke was stuck on the idea of having to kill someone. He had majorly bluffed when speaking to his sensei. Expressing his feelings on the idea of murdering was fine but the academy did not go into first details as much as it should have. It was brushed under the rug of “don’t worry, your sensei will handle it and your life will become much more safe.” 

Not only did that sentiment exclude academy students who did not pass their jounin exam and joined the genin corps but it also left everyone underprepared. Over a decade of peace really did make everyone far too lax when peace was never a constant. 

He was unprepared for it all. It was pitiful when his goal was to kill Itachi but was throwing his humanity away even necessary? If his will was strong enough and if the gods allowed it, Itachi would be slain by his hand. By repressing his compassionate nature, wouldn’t he simply turn into another Itachi? It hurt. It was confusing sometimes. He didn’t know how to act, how to think. Which option was just, which option would make his dead clan proud if they saw him. 

It was better to be mindful of others, value the fragility and importance of life if he was to kill in the future. Taking his mother’s teachings to heart, he would never take a life for granted. Would that suffice? 

Learning the chidori with a Sharingan sped the process up. Applying his knowledge on moulding lightning in his palm, all he needed was more power behind the attack, his control solid. Lightning was quick, prickly and required the utmost focus or it would blow up in his face and leave scars that would take years to fade. 

Naruto beside him was learning a jutsu that created a large gust of wind. Roots of trees had weakened and fell in the wake of his repeated attempts at centering his attack in one direction. 

“Ah, this sucks!” he said and promptly bashed his head on the floor as the wind swept him off his feet. 

Sprawled on the ground with his face pushed against the mud made Sasuke relax and realise that his teammate was the same old idiot and would continue to be. 

It was downright comical and managed to take the edge off his anger at his sensei for stressing him out so much that he lashed out, thoughtlessly. Naruto rolled beside the flowers and spread his body weight, content to not get up and head back to Tazuna’s house. 

He tried to cover his laugh but Naruto had already perked up at the sound, the corners of his mouth curling upwards in a fond grin. 

Sparks of lightning faded from his palm as his chakra stores depleted. He too had ran himself dry today and wanted to rest. Tazuna’s house suddenly seemed too far away. 

The sun had set, and the stars appeared so much closer in Wave, each flicker reflected in his eyes and silently telling him their story. 

Laying down on the soft grass, Sasuke’s hands slowly glided up his stomach and rested on his chest—the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart could do nothing to cool down the heat that travelled to his cheeks. A pleased, satisfied flush adorned his face. 

“Sometimes you scare me. Sometimes you make me feel so much I don’t know what to do,” Sasuke admitted in the cold night, the only witness being nature and the boy sitting beside him. 

“Why would that scare you?” Naruto’s voice was the gentlest it had ever been. 

“I don’t deserve it,” he whispered. His eyes glistened with either contentment or desperation; he couldn’t tell. “I don’t… It’s too good to be true. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and I’ll be back at the compound all alone again. And I should be alone, right? I’m an avenger, right? So why… Why does the thought of being alone again scare me so much?” 

Vulnerability was something he promised himself to never reveal to anyone ever again but there was something about Naruto that made him lower his guard, reveal himself in his barest form—because he knew he wouldn’t be judged. Naruto and him were two sides of the same coin, mistreated yet stood out, so lonely yet heavily watched and scrutinised. 

“I think I get you. I also sometimes think it’s all a dream and I’m still living the life where all the villagers hate me and the only person who believes in me is the Hokage.” His expression was bittersweet as he reminisced. “But now I have you and Sakura and Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei! It makes me so happy. I want to protect all of you, y’know? 

“I don’t need protecting. You probably do, though. Those villagers… have they ever…” 

“No…” Naruto immediately understood what he was trying to reference. “They only stare and kick me out of stores. They don’t… Ol’ Sarutobi won’t let ‘em. And I get why they don’t like me. It’s fine. If I knew I wouldn’t like me either.” 

“Tell me.” 

“No.” 

“Tell me and I’ll tell you who your father was.” 

His entire body shot up, eyes widened from shock and an ugly feeling settled in Sasuke’s chest. (He didn’t mean to say that. It came out of nowhere because Naruto’s heritage was obviously being hidden for a reason. The boy didn’t even know he had his own clan.) 

“W-What? My father? Sasuke, is this some sick joke?” Undignified anger but his eyes also held a glimmer of hope. “I’m not laughing. People have done some bad stuff to me but joking about this would have to be the worst.” He paused and took in Sasuke, who had no hesitance, only patience. “You’re not joking.” It came out as a revelation but still a statement, like Naruto couldn’t fathom ever finding out about his parentage. 

(He shouldn’t say this. If he did, it would change everything.) 

“Minato Namikaze.” 

“No…” 

“The Fourth Hokage. If what Sakura said about the Uzumaki clan was true then Kushina, the only Uzumaki in the village, was probably related to you. As for the Fourth Hokage, I only found out because it was obvious. He looks just like you. Same hair, eyes. But Kushina and my mother were close. Teammates I think. There’s also an old bingo book I could find if you want to learn more about Kushina Uzumaki.” 

Sasuke always found himself looking at Naruto when everyone else never glanced twice. Drawn to him for no reason. 

There was no response. That was okay. For the first time ever, Sasuke didn’t mind filling in the silence with his voice instead. 

“I used to hear stories about my mother and her missions with her friend named Kushina who had red hair—red long hair. She was… loud in those stories. Pulled pranks and was strong. She had… chains? I can’t remember much. They were elite jounin feared across the Elemental Nations.” 

Mikoto Uchiha told him many stories, hidden under their blankets when Itachi was on missions or training with his father. Looking back, there was a desperate yearning in the way she regaled him of her days as a kunoichi. Like she never wanted to let him go. Like he was the only person that mattered—that she could keep to herself for as long as the universe allowed her to. No regard for his age, he heard stories of incapacitation, murder, lies, enemies, secrets that Mikoto would have carried to the grave, words and phrases that only made sense the older he was, once she passed away. 

Mikoto was paranoid, flighty but managed to be peaceful all the same. And she latched onto Sasuke as a child, looked at him with tearful eyes and embraced him with the strength of a kunoichi once feared. 

“As for the Fourth Hokage, there’s not much I know about him. I think he was friends with my father—I wouldn’t know. My father—he never spoke much about the Fourth Hokage, so I only know as much about him as you do.” 

(His father didn’t speak much to him in general, consistently hurrying forward and never looking back, making it so hard to keep up. Moments worth remembering with him were scarce.) 

“Naruto, you are the son of the Fourth Hokage. Why does everyone hate you?” 

A loud keening noise and Naruto had tumbled into his arms with no reservations for personal space. A dam had broken and he was a mess of incoherent words and sniffling. Soaking his shirt unabashedly, Naruto’s face was shoved into his chest. 

“He did it to me—He left me and he's the reason why everyone hates me! Why? Why? Why me? Why his own son?” 

“What?” 

A shuddering breath and he relented. “You get told in the academy that the Fourth Hokage defeated the Nine Tails. He didn’t. It’s a chakra construct, so it can only be sealed away. And it can’t be sealed in an object. Only a human can contain it.” 

“Don’t you get it, Sasuke? My father sealed the Nine Tails inside of me! The monster—no, the _demon_ —that almost destroyed the village was sealed inside of me. The day I was born. I know he was trying to protect the village, but why didn’t he care about me? He’s the reason I was hated. He’s the reason all the villagers can see when they look at me is a demon. I’m a reminder of everything they lost that day and the worst thing is that I _get_ it! I want to be angry but I just can’t. To them it probably looks like the demon was running free.” Snot and tears had covered most of his face and he was openly crying now. “But I didn’t know. I promise, I didn’t know. I’m just a person. I didn’t ask to be a demon’s jailor.” 

Despite his face twisting with crushing despair, Sasuke thought Naruto looked so pretty with the light of the moon making his hair and skin glow. His glare was a tad more fierce. 

“Thank you for telling me. I mean, who knows when I would’a found out.” 

“You can’t let anyone know that I told you this.” He wondered what would happen to him if the Hokage found out he was the one who let the secret out. “I think they were trying to keep your heritage under wraps.” 

“I know that, you bastard.” His tears had yet to dry and Sasuke oddly wanted to wipe them away with his thumb. “I’m not as stupid as you think. I won’t say anything. It’s probably something about how they’re protecting me. Maybe they think I’m dumb enough to just tell anyone. Like I didn’t graduate from the academy!” 

“You barely paid attention to anything at the academy and you’re always yelling about how you’ll become the Hokage. Do you really think it’s that far of a reach to believe that you’ll tell people about being the son of the village’s hero?”

Naruto scowled. “I’ve been alone my whole life. I didn’t have anyone. I don’t know what it’s like being in a loving family. Why couldn’t I have this one thing? At least the ol’ man could’a told me my parents didn’t love me. He just—he acted like I was an orphan that nobody knew. Now, I get told I have a clan and that my dad’s the Fourth Hokage… I don’t… Nothing makes _sense!”_

Naruto had tears in his eyes and a face that spoke of thousands of emotions but Sasuke didn’t understand how Naruto didn’t see the Hokage for the conniving old man he was. 

“He’s the Hokage, Naruto. He sends people to their death everyday. He… He thinks sending children out to fight wars that _he_ starts is okay. Is it so surprising that he would put keeping secrets and the offspring of the Fourth Hokage as more of a priority than your feelings?” Gaping, Naruto shook his head back and forth, back and forth—like the movement could shake off the doubt and whispers that had already branded itself onto his skin. “I don’t know for sure what goes on in his head. Don’t take what I say for word but you also shouldn’t put so much trust into a man that will always put the village as a whole first.” 

“Why did you even tell me?” His voice was a broken thing, weak with sorrow and unsure of his place in a world that chewed him up and spat him out, all for the greater good. 

Who knows. Maybe the stars aligned for this exact moment, this moment that would have changed any path previously set out for them. He didn’t answer as he had nothing to say. 

“Your father did the same thing, didn’t he? He condemned you to a life of hatred and being a weapon capable of mass annihilation. You’re lucky you wanted to be a shinobi because if you didn’t… you would have been forced to become one anyway. They won’t let their secret weapon be taken away. I’ve read about the Tailed Beasts before. You… You have the strongest one out of all of the nine.” 

“There’s _more?”_

“Yeah, it was…” He blushed and said, “a bedtime story for me as a kid. I… I don’t know but the First Hokage sent out the Tailed Beasts to the other four major villages as a peace offering. What’s the term? Uh, mutual assured destruction. It was _supposed_ to stop wars but the villages just didn’t use the Tailed Beasts unless absolutely necessary.” 

(Itachi told him that with poorly concealed admiration. “He wanted equal peace so instead of forcing the other nations to submit with his overwhelming power, he tried to balance the level of power between each village.” 

_But he couldn’t do the same thing with the Uchihas?)_

“I’ve never heard you speak so much,” Naruto admitted causing Sasuke’s face to catch on fire. “You sound like Sakura when you explain things. You don’t treat me like I’m stupid. It’s nice. I like it. You should speak more. A nice voice.” 

How was he even supposed to react to that? 

Their bodies were pressed together, closer than before and Sasuke wanted to hide away because it would be so easy to lean in, to melt into his warm embrace, to accept him as a friend. But Sasuke didn’t work himself to exhaustion for years only to relax with teammates and let people in that would inevitably betray him. It was easier to hurt someone before they could hurt him. So he tried to move, turn away. 

But Naruto didn’t give him the chance. “Sasuke, Is it so bad to let me protect you… let me be by your side?” 

Sasuke shook his head. “You don’t get it. He will—He will come for you and kill you but he told me I had to—But I don’t want to because I like being around you but I _shouldn’t_ because once I kill that man I’ll… I’ll…” 

He’ll die. Wasn’t that the plan? For as long as he could remember, his goal was to restore honour to his clan’s name and rest alongside them. He would find relief in death, he would welcome it with open arms and embrace it. But he also wanted to see his teammates grow into the formidable shinobi he knew they’d be, even if he was oftentimes jealous of their rapid progress. 

It was getting harder by the day to deny that he wanted to train alongside them, laugh and smile more, joke and rise through the ranks with them. 

But Sasuke’s mind was warped, a dangerous, tricky thing. He saw too much, felt too much and speculated too much. His mind was his greatest asset, a talent no doubt Itachi brought out from him yet also his largest burden. Staying in Konohagakure was never going to last for long. Caging him inside the village wouldn’t work as Sasuke would never not question authority, his inquisitive, observant nature far too troublesome in a village that requires absolute obedience. 

“I don’t care.” Blue met black, unrelenting as it pierced his soul down to its deepest, most rotten, hate-filled core. “I’ll protect you anyway. You’re allowed to want things, Sasuke. You’re allowed to be happy.” 

And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Sasuke was denying himself the feelings he ultimately deserved to have. It seemed that no matter what, he would always unconsciously find ways to tear his very being down. 

Naruto could dissect his emotions with such ease. Sasuke didn’t know if this was a trait he possessed for everyone, if his face was that expressive, or if there was a connection between them that transcended explicability itself. 

_Naruto,_ an oppressive voice in his mind said and slithered, circling his spirit, weighty in its hold, _don’t make promises you can’t keep._ Solid, almost real and trailing down the back of his ear. The screams of his dead clansmen reverberated, latching onto him. Even years later, they were louder than ever. He could almost see his father, facing him down with his prominent frown that was etched onto his features. 

_Do better._

Sasuke would do better.

  
  


* * *

Sasuke killed a man. 

Sasuke’s hand shot right through that man’s chest as if it was made of the softest fabric, but there was no tearing sound, only a laboured squelch and thud as the body dropped to the ground. 

Right behind him was only Sakura (Naruto was still training alone early in the morning and Sasuke was relieved because Naruto’s judgement felt final and Sasuke didn’t want those warm eyes to turn icy). She stared with mounting horror at the carnage in front of him. Specks of blood clung to his cheeks and his hands were wet, slippery. 

Enraged, the other rogue samurai cried, “What did you do?” 

“I killed him.” His lips were moving without his permission. 

A few steps closer and the smell of piss and ripped flesh was stronger. Hysterically, he eyed the wet patch on the man’s crotch. 

“Don’t be scared,” he crooned, venomously. Sharingan spinning and hypnotising. Red: the colour of his hands, face. “I won’t kill you if you leave and never come back.” 

“Wait, Sasuke. We should tie him up. You can’t trust a rogue.” Sakura’s wavering voice cut the sinister edge he was creeping towards. 

And _oh,_ it was almost as if Sasuke was punched in the gut as it all added up, the way Sakura kept her distance, the way her fingers spasmed. 

She was afraid of him. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? 

(“ _Murderer,”_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother weeped. Black and red. Black and red. “ _You’re just like him, now! It was only a matter of time. Soon there’ll be no reason to kill Itachi once you become just as cursed as him.”_ ) 

Chidori wasted too much of his chakra to use more than once a day since despite attempting to perfect the technique to the best of his current ability, his chakra capacity wasn’t large enough to use it sparingly. And he should have saved the attack as a secret up his sleeve for later—because this was no doubt the confirmation that Zabuza had returned to finish the job—but Sasuke wasn’t thinking. All his mind could chant was _protect, protect, protect._ And _not again, not again, not again._

“Sasuke, why don’t you get cleaned up?” 

“Saku—Sakura,” he croaked, unable to take his eyes off his drenched hands. “There’s no time. We need to get to the bridge.” 

“I know. I need to make sure Tsunami and Inari are okay before we go and we’ll meet Naruto in the forest. Just—Just go wash up, okay? We’ll talk about this after the mission.” 

Robotically, he peered under the table where the mother and son were hiding and pretended he didn’t see the blubbering of the boy and the cowering of the woman. 

(“ _Monster!”)_

For once, he couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

  
  


* * *

In the midst of a raging battle, Sasuke’s preferred method of careful analysis was impossible. Everything had to be instinctual—aware and alert at all times. 

Sliding in from all angles, the chakra generated mist covered the horizon of the bridge, obscuring their vision, but the silhouette was unmistakable. Firmly gripped in his hand was the famed Kubikiribocho and wielding it was Zabuza. Perched beside with a veneer of elegance that spoke of surety was the same masked hunter-nin from before. 

Unconsciously shuffling his feet closer to his teammates, two hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him. Naruto and Sakura’s aura was domineering for mere genin. Nodding his head, they let go but angled their bodies so the missing-nin didn’t have full view of himself. 

The tension in the standstill of appraising each other had dissipated at his action, and Zabuza barked a shrill, gleeful laugh. “Oh, this is precious. Hatake, you sure your team can handle Haku?” His sword was now angled at the masked teen beside him. 

Said teen had five senbon in their hand, pointing it at the trio. Their monotonous voice, coupled with the mask, created an air of detachment—boredom even. 

“I’ll protect Tazuna,” Sakura had said quietly enough for only him and Naruto to hear. “My defence is the strongest and I don’t know any elemental ninjutsu to fight yet. I’d probably be in the way. Be careful. If things get too bad I’ll come and help but… you guys will be okay, right?” 

“You got it, Sakura!” 

“We’ll be fine,” Sasuke acquiesced. 

Haku was unabated. Senbon from every angle was constantly being thrown at them at startling speeds, forcing both Sasuke and Naruto to get on the defensive. 

“You are both stronger than I expected,” Haku’s soft voice said. There was neither a masculine nor feminine quality to his opponent’s tone and it was strangely calm despite the situation. 

_Confidence perhaps?_ Sasuke thought internally. Whether it was all an act or not, they definitely should not be underestimated. 

“Of course, we are!” Naruto yelled as he let out another wind jutsu to combat the senbon. “And once we beat you, we’ll save the people in this village.” 

Haku seemed like they wanted to pause at Naruto’s declaration but Sasuke didn’t give them the chance. Boosting his feet with chakra, Sasuke leapt and with a simple lightning spark, rendered them defenceless for a split second. That was all the time Naruto needed to charge and punched their stomach as hard as he could, sending the teen flying backwards, near the railings of the bridge. 

“Why?” 

Naruto tilted his head in question. “Huh?” 

“Why save these people? Why does it matter if you save these people? You don’t know them.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” Naruto looked offended. “It’s the right thing to do anyway. What you’re doing… leaving all these people to suffer is wrong! And it’s selfish of you to think you’re more important than an entire village. Children are starving to death. If I can change that I will.” 

Naruto’s words—despite its simplicity—resonated within Sasuke. Because there was no need to have a reason to decide to help another person. It was that altruistic nature of his that Sasuke wanted to preserve as long as possible. 

But Haku was not satisfied. “There is no right and wrong in being a shinobi. Morals are thrown aside the moment you decide to kill for money. What makes you pick and choose which lives to save and which to end? Your mission details?” 

Faltering, Naruto suddenly looked unsure. “I’m protecting my people—the people of Konoha if I have to kill but I won’t anyway! I’ll become a ninja without killing.” 

“Wave are not your people just as they are not mine. I have no obligation to save them and better their lives. Your ideology is foolish and will get you killed. Shinobi are tools who must dirty themselves. I do not wish to harm you but you leave me no choice when refusing to hand over the bridge builder. No matter, I will kill you.” 

Sasuke didn’t like how the masked shinobi felt like they could just ask them such asinine questions in the middle of the fight. He only paused because Naruto seemed oddly invested but the temptation to just kill them as they stood there was increasing. (A fracture of his soul was wailing, bemoaning how he was turning into _him,_ yearning for the last dregs of his innocence—Sasuke was submerged now, surrounded and revelling in the ideals he used to only spectate and judge with clinical coolness.) 

That didn’t mean Sasuke didn’t agree with them. Naruto would find out on his own, eventually. There was no need to force him to grow up so soon and face their reality of incessant, needless and inexplicable suffering. Where Sasuke was screeching, tilting and reshaping himself, Naruto’s essence would forever stay true. Sasuke adapted. Naruto was the rush of a new season—the change itself. 

He wished he could be as noble and as true to himself as Naruto was, but he was an Uchiha. Sasuke watched and copied and as the tides turned so would he. 

Steely with thick resolve, Sasuke said, “You won’t kill him.” 

“Sasuke.” 

Synchronised like two simultaneously thudding heartbeats. 

“Mhm, let’s do this, Naruto.” 

They continued. 

Embarrassingly enough, it didn’t take long for Sasuke to realise that his Sharingan was absolutely necessary in this fight if they wanted to make it out alive. 

Soon, Sasuke was catching up in speed with Haku, his eyes finally able to keep up. 

“The famed Sharingan. Zabuza spoke of it but I still never thought I would ever see it in person,” Haku marvelled. “Konohagakure kept the identity of your survival secret enough but if you make a name for yourself you will be targeted by everyone.” 

“I know that.” 

“You are lucky your village is so accepting of Bloodline Limits. I hail from Kirigakure and my clan was deemed too strong and therefore wiped out. I too am the last survivor of a clan with a long history.” 

Sasuke couldn’t help it when his heart clenched. They were the same. Kindred spirits. 

Haku must have noticed his conflicted emotions regardless as their voice sounded even more soft. “I do not wish to kill you but that is the fate of a shinobi.” 

He understood. He really did. (He wished he didn’t.) 

The interaction seemed to cause a switch in their opponents actions. The air felt chillier and Sasuke’s teeth chattered. With one hand sign pointing upwards towards their chest, Haku summoned a mirror of ice surrounding him and Naruto. 

“Shit!” Sasuke cursed. 

No fire jutsu of his caused the ice to melt. It truly was a magnificent jutsu. He understood then why such a fate had befallen Haku’s clan. 

“I’ll try and break us out of here with a wind attack,” Naruto said, dodging another flurry of senbon and now ice shrapnels his way. 

“Such a jutsu would not work,” Haku said, their body appearing to be inside the ice and moving too fast for his sharingan to properly track (dammit it all to Hell! He should have practiced with his Sharingan more). Naruto tried anyway and watched the smallest crack form, only to immediately smoothen over. 

“You put up a commendable fight. I’d do well to honour your deaths to the best of my ability. To have to fight at such a young age is a cruel fate for us. May you find peace on the other side.” 

Sasuke would have thought that he was the one to experience the next attack as he was considerably weakened from covering Naruto at times. But dozens of senbon were all pointing at his teammate—an omen of death, of no escape. Time slowed. He couldn’t tell if it was from the Sharingan or if the universe stopped for this moment alone. 

His body moved to intercept the fatal attack and at the last second pushed Naruto out of the way. Pain. Excruciating, mind numbing pain. But all he could focus on was the relief of seeing his teammate unharmed. _It was worth it._

Pale and distraught, Naruto could not move either and Sasuke’s body fell backwards. 

“Sasuke… Why?” 

Memories flashed through his mind of his time spent with Team 7, his meeting with Naruto, their unexpected comradeship, training everyday together, their night under the stars, the way his gaze would always travel back to the boy with sun-kissed skin and gold hair throughout the years. 

Sakura? She would be fine, wouldn’t she? And Kakashi—he was no doubt a nuisance to Kakashi, who disrespected authority and challenged his teaching methods. 

But he really wanted more time at least before he died. A part of him craved the security he felt with Team 7. Oh, they were a mess, a mess of contradictions, outcasts but they worked. They fit and days just doing mundane tasks, helping each other out became something he secretly looked forward to. 

The walls of the Uchiha compound were his prison for the longest time (Sasuke Uchiha would never forget, _never forget. Never forget Mikoto Uchiha, Fugaku Uchiha, Shisui Uchiha—)_

Team 7 came hurtling in, smashing everything in his desolate path, and he didn’t know when but at some point Sasuke was okay with it. 

And Naruto... 

Naruto was his sun. Intriguing him from the very beginning. The connection at this point was hard to deny. Special. Pure. If Sasuke died, Naruto would be able to pick up the pieces—of course, he would. Naruto was so resilient. 

If Naruto died… Sasuke would drown. Sasuke would drown in the blood of his dead clansmen, in the agony, the gaping hole in his chest. Empty, blue eyes void of the light that once drew him in closer would haunt him for eternity. 

He couldn’t let that fire die out when he shone brighter than any other star he had ever seen. 

“Idiot… My body moved on its own.” 

Face distorted in anguish, Naruto could not hold back the howls, sobs that racked through his body at the sight—the sight that would plague his nightmares for months to come. “Sasuke—Sasuke, look at me. Listen here, you bastard. Don’t—don’t _die_ on me. You selfish bastard. You _can’t._ Why?” 

Sasuke was cold. 

He wanted to feel Naruto’s warmth. With no hesitation, he rested his hand on Naruto’s cheek and inhaled as much as he could, blood clogging his lungs. 

“My brother. Kill him for me. He’s still… out there. He’s still… Big brother. He’s… Naruto, you’ll go far. Don’t give up on your dreams. At least, I’ll join the rest of my family, right?” Just as his eyes closed, he poked Naruto’s forehead and let himself fall back with a serene smile. 

The last thing he felt was a flair of potent chakra, a strangled scream and an animalistic roar of, “ _I’ll kill you!”_

* * *

Something was wrong. 

Something was deeply, irrecoverably wrong and Sakura could no longer ignore it. 

With a heavy heart she had parted from her teammates, assured that they could handle themselves and convinced she would only be an inconvenience. Besides, someone _had_ to watch over Tazuna and Naruto’s situational awareness was awful. Sasuke was with no doubt the most skilled out of the three. He worked far too hard for a normal genin. She understood though, that he had larger than life goals—a purpose more than simply protecting his village. 

It didn’t make the view of watching him mercilessly murder the rogue samurai that cornered Tsunami and Inari any easier. It was gory, unlike any of the clean kills the academy demonstrated through graphs and drawn examples. Blood everywhere, messy with the worst smell that would infect her nightmares. It certainly would help her genjutsu and imagination skills. But reading detailed documents of ways to be maimed didn’t compare to seeing the real thing. 

She didn’t demonise Sasuke and she knew he expected her to from the way he stared at her. Either way, she was too repulsed by the smell and had to tend to the civilians who were no doubt traumatised by the violence as well as having their life on the line to be potential hostages. 

Sasuke didn’t mean to do it though. That was something she instantly knew. He was feral, lashing out like a cornered animal until the roles switched and he was the predator. A large cat—a leopard. Slow, measured steps, demonstrating where the power, where the dominance lay. His survival instincts had kicked in; she couldn’t fault him, not when she would one day have to kill as well. 

So when his chakra signature flickered out of existence, Sakura _panicked._ What followed left her in a cold sweat; it was the foulest, most heinous chakra she had ever felt, blurring her senses until her legs were trembling and her breathing was uneven. 

“Fucking hell!” 

Tazuna beside her was faring far worse. He looked like he was staring death in its face. 

“What is that feeling? What—what is it?” 

“It’s best not to ask questions,” she said, her pacing hurried. “Fuck, I really don’t care about the mission anymore. You’re coming with me.” 

“Wait, what? We’re going near it?” 

“It feels like a teammate. I don’t know. It might be a Bloodline Limit. And Sasuke… I can’t feel him at all. His chakra is gone.” 

“So he’s…?” 

Sakura swivelled and sent him the most crazed smile that came out more like a grimace. “Not on my watch—and that fake hunter-nin will die a gruesome, torturously slow death.” 

Because Sakura would tear the earth and disrupt the heavens for her boys. She would rage at the sky and do absolutely anything to keep them by her side. Even the grim reaper itself wouldn’t be safe from her wrath. 

Just as they arrived at the scene, she witnessed Naruto, coated in a cloak of corrosive, blood-orange chakra, land a solid punch against Haku’s mask. The sheer impact behind the brutal attack caused their mask to crack and fall to the floor. 

Sakura shook herself out of her daze and placed a genjutsu to conceal herself and Tazuna. 

“Kill me, Konoha shinobi. Nobody likes a broken tool that can’t do its job. I have outlived my purpose by failing this mission and am now useless to my master.” 

To speak that way about yourself like you weren’t even a human was disturbing. 

As Naruto and Haku—who looked like they had some surprising shared history—continued, Sakura ran up to Sasuke whose skin was a sick pallor. The senbon sticking out of his neck and upper section was gruesome but it was in the same position Zabuza’s attack had been to escape. It was times like this that Sakura loved her brain that never seemed to stop remembering things with clear clarity. 

Mind cleared, Sakura realised that Haku put Sasuke in a death-like state and instead spared him. This intentional act of kindness was absurd—they were enemies! Why? Carefully, she began pulling the senbon out of his skin and watched his body jerk forward and his face twist before relaxing once again. 

“He’ll live?” Tazuna asked, crouching beside her with a look of disturbed concern. Watching children fight to the death tended to do that. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a sharp nod. “Might take a while for him to wake up but he should be fine.” 

Mindful to still shield Tazuna from any sneak attacks, Sakura witnessed Naruto and Haku share their past together and in a rare act of raw understanding, place their differences aside. Unknown to her, this was something even grown jounin greatly struggled to do; at the end of the day when the weapons were scarce, maybe one or two under the pillow and when the dirt and grime was washed away from their aching bodies, each person was fighting for what they believed in, for their people and for their family’s own safety. Neither side was more important than the other. 

Haku looked grateful. “You are special. Maybe if it were anyone else I wouldn’t understand or even listen to, but your conviction, it is the strongest I’ve seen yet.” And their face was peaceful. “I don’t know if peace can ever happen when violence is so ingrained in our villages as shinobi, but you are doing more than I ever have. You are taking a stance, a stance that maybe in another life I would have taken as well. I cannot fault you for wanting to bring forth change when life has not been kind to you or your teammates. If you can create a world where lineages aren’t massacred, where children do not have to fight for the right to survive and _live,_ then even in my grave, you have my utmost support.” 

“It is a shame I will not be there to see it all.” With a sense of finality, they said, “There is one last thing I must do.” 

A chidori ran through Haku’s chest. 

Naruto screamed. 

Sakura covered her mouth with her hand, silent tears streaming down her face. 

Kakashi’s eyes were unfocused, no doubt reliving a similar experience. 

But Zabuza looked hollow, like every purpose in his life had suddenly vanished. Whatever defiant glint in his eye he had despite having both his arms bent unnaturally was gone. He was just a man now. No famed demon. No ruthless killer. And Sakura never expected it to be so haunting. 

She never wanted to look like that. She would rather die.

  
  


* * *

A misty, grey sky above him adorned with heavy clouds (not black, not red) was the first view that greeted Sasuke from his slumber. At the corner of his vision, he could spot a blur of pink. _Sakura_ , his jumbled thoughts supplied for him. _She’s okay._

“Sasuke, you scared me there.” Her voice was louder than he thought it would be, and he noticed that she was kneeling beside his body. Her hands were shaking. “I thought you were de—You’ll be okay. I had to take the senbon out which now that I think about it I probably shouldn’t have done because I could have made it worse and—” 

“Sakura.” His voice was weak but cut in through her anxiety induced rambling. “What happened? How am I alive, Sakura?” Throat dry, he attempted to swallow only to choke slightly. 

“Haku—they spared you. They could have killed you. They could have easily killed you but they didn’t.” A bout of silence, almost like she was afraid he would take the slight personally. Sasuke waited for her to explain more (He was an empty carcass, washed out). “They died, Sasuke. They jumped in front of Kakashi’s chidori to save Zabuza. And then Gatou and his men came and—and Zabuza killed them all and then he died _anyway._ Haku’s sacrifice was meaningless!” 

“It’s so ugly. It’s so bad, Sasuke! Why do things have to end this way? Why… I _hate_ it. I’m so angry. I’m so…” 

“You are shedding tears for the enemy,” he whispered. A part of Sasuke was relieved Zabuza was dead. 

“No, I’m not! I’m—this is for you and Haku. And _I thought you were dead, Sasuke!_ I couldn’t feel your chakra. That death state felt so real. I can't lose you, Sasuke. I won’t lose you. Either of you.” 

But Haku was the enemy. Still, it would be hypocritical of him to judge her as at the mention of Haku’s death, Sasuke felt his stomach plummet. How many more victims of the shinobi villages did there have to be? How many more faceless, nameless deaths ignored without the decency to be carved in a memorial stone would there be? How many times did shinobi have to sink their hands into the blood of the youth until they realised that they were doing more harm than anyone else? 

Sakura needed reassurance and he would give her that but no promises, they were bound to be broken. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

The hand now on his shoulder was Kakashi’s and beside him clutching the back of his jounin vest was Naruto who he had never seen look so exhausted before. Intentionally refusing to meet the blond’s eyes, he tried to stand up but his legs refused to support him. On one side was Sakura and on the other was Kakashi, propelling him. Shoulders hunched and an expression forlorn, Naruto followed behind before stopping. 

“I’ll change it,” Naruto suddenly said. “They all say shinobi must be tools, emotionless, only for the mission? _I’ll change it._ That’s no way for a person to live. Nobody should exist as a weapon. Life is precious, it shouldn’t be wasted on stupid wars. Right now, it’s so bad. And nobody is _doing_ anything. If that person has to be me then fine. I’ll never go back on this promise of a lifetime.” 

“It won’t be easy,” Kakashi said. But he didn’t outright mock him or tell him it was a fool’s dream—for idealistic wanderers like Jiraiya. People just like Naruto have tried, failed and resorted to more drastic, morally corrupt measures until they drove themselves to madness in their pursuit of a life that can never be in this war torn world. 

“I know. Nothing is ever easy. I get that. I’ll still do it. 

“You’ll make a lot of enemies.” 

“As if the entire village doesn’t hate my guts.” Naruto remarked. “What difference does more people make?” 

Sakura bit her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can commit to something like that. I just wanna be a respectable kunoichi and make my parents proud.” A guilty look flashed across her face. 

“I don’t have parents. I don’t have anyone to make proud except maybe Iruka.” Maybe in a universe where Naruto never found out his parentage until _after_ the Third Hokage died, he would have added him to the list. It was bare and empty enough as it was already. But Naruto was resentful. “I’m doing this for people like me, forgotten and rejected. People like Haku… Sasuke. People need _hope._ I see that now. Once Wave had hope, they were able to destroy Gatou’s company. I’ll be that hope again.” 

Sasuke said nothing, didn’t even look in the blond’s direction at hearing his name. But the child inside him was weeping, for his rest on the other side, for gratitude, having someone who _finally_ understood him. 

He would not address it. 

He would not address the dread he felt at opening his eyes once again and not being able to see his family. 

(He was okay with being dead. What a pitiful excuse of an Uchiha. He may as well stop wearing the crest. His fiery will was negligible. And he was nothing more than the smokey remains of the fire that was once strong.) 

“Sasuke, you okay?” Kakashi, whose grip on him was tighter than needed, asked. 

“I am.” 

* * *

Not much happened after that spectacle. Hope bloomed once again for the citizens of Wave, Gatou was dead and his company had been purged by the villages in a fit of celebration. A bare grave was left for Zabuza and Haku; Sasuke traced their names into the soil and sent a short prayer. He thought about how easily it could have been him buried instead. 

And Tazuna wanted to name the bridge after them in thanks of their support. 

“There’s no way you’re naming it after Naruto. What did he do that was so special? If it wasn’t for my genjutsu you would have been dead long ago!” 

“Come on, Sakura. You know how it is. I just have that endless charm and—” 

“Shut _up,_ Naruto, you idiot!” 

Sasuke did nothing except stain the man’s carpet with blood and leave a corpse there that didn’t need to exist. (Tazuna had cringed and offhandedly mentioned how Tsunami still struggled to get the red off.) 

Overall, the mission was a success, despite the casualties. At the very least, Sasuke wanted to get reprimanded for Haku beating him and for killing a man that didn’t need to be killed. All he got was a tense pat on the back, a quip of how he ‘did what he had to do’ from Kakashi and to make sure he recounted all of the events so it could be relayed back to the Hokage. 

He almost wanted to convince himself that this wasn’t going to be how he lived for the rest of his life—and Sasuke thought about how if he had to kill in every mission, how long it would take for his hands to grow a deeper shade of red until it matched his abomination of a brother. 

* * *

Kakashi Hatake’s only purpose in life was to serve and obey his Hokage, first and foremost. All of his connections were gone, his father dead via suicide, his teammate crushed under a boulder and his other teammate dead through suicide by his own hand. Just when he thought he couldn’t lose anymore of his loved ones, his sensei and his wife who were, at this stage, his second parents in a way, died protecting the village on the night of the Nine Tails attack. 

His code name Hound resonated with him more than Kakashi ever did; his only talent was the endless ways he knew how to assassinate an enemy. Being a shinobi for as long as he could remember, Kakashi didn’t know a life outside of taking orders, using any means possible to achieve success. If that meant seducing old nobles, even during his younger days, if that meant killing innocent children from neighbouring villages to get rid of witnesses during asssassinations if stealth goes awry and if that meant destroying fragments of his soul in the process, it didn’t matter. _For Konoha._

Unlike some of the most successful shinobi in the jounin ranks, Kakashi fully understood the moral implications behind every single action and was unable to view his murders as anything other than inhumane. It was interesting to witness his comrades mock the civilians who grew warier by the day at their casual mentions of killing enemies. To them, the civilians were ungrateful, backward thinking traditionalists. Because who were the ones protecting them from future invasions? 

Alas, Kakashi threw away his humanity at six-years-old after slicing the neck of an Iwa spy. He remembered the pool of dread in his stomach as his sensei patted his head conveying a ‘well done.’ And one thought that carried with him even years later was the awe at how easy it was to kill. Eyes once filled with life glazing over, the blood coated on his kunai, slipping down to taint his hands irredeemably—he watched with morbid fascination as the throat gurgled, choking on blood only to then twitch slightly. 

“It’ll get easier to handle,” Minato had reassured him at the revulsion evident in his green face. “Soon, you’ll be killing stronger opponents and your life will be on the line as well. You’ll definitely be on the frontlines in the future, that I’m sure of.” 

There was a point in life where he believed sacrifices were necessary to preserve the natural order of Konohagakure but such unfaltering ideals left once he joined ANBU. 

ANBU was a wormhole, sucking away his soul and capacity to feel emotions, until he was nothing but a killing-machine, barking orders the higher up in the chain of command he was. ANBU was a parasite, its reach spanning so far in the village that even expendable children were not spared. 

He was wrong when he was taught to believe that putting the mission first was all that matters and he’s wrong when he abandons a mission to ensure a comrade doesn’t die under his command in ANBU. Throughout his decades-long experience of being a soldier, Kakashi noticed the disorder and chaos of the shinobi world; defectors only to be hunted down and executed for throwing away their loyalty and oaths they swore. Orphans nobody would miss kidnapped in the night long before Orochimaru began his vile experiments and when pleading with the Hokage to help him, he would be rejected. Kakashi soon began to think for himself only and the people he had to honour by staying alive and allowing their wills to be brought to fruition. Seeing how he recently began receiving several incredibly high ranking missions back to back, the Hokage must have noticed as well. 

The infamous Kakashi Hatake of the Sharingan was pitifully reduced to a man who spoke to the ghosts of his past in front of a memorial stone more than his fellow shinobi. Shared with his loved ones was invaluable information, the repetitive endeavours of his disgraceful life, safe in the ears of the dead. Drowning in the bitter taste of grief, there was no future left for him. 

Everything changed with Team 7. 

When he had finally accepted his place in life, of his servitude to Konohagakure through hiding in the shadows, he was booted out without a moment’s notice and forced to teach young, impressionable genin who had just left the academy. With Minato and Kushina’s son right in front of him, such a large responsibility for him to pull out the hidden, untapped potential, he couldn’t cope. 

Then, was this his punishment? 

Was this his punishment for living in passivity like Sasuke had accused him of? 

Because Kakashi _tried_ and it wasn’t enough. And now he was thinking that maybe if he didn’t give up so quickly, things could be different. 

Innocent. 

Everything about Team 7 was innocent, exploring the world step by step with less hurried motions than he was at their age. To Kakashi, it reminded him what he was fighting for—the innocent people of his home village, for their futures to never be as daunting and as void as his. And Naruto (a stark reminder of Kushina and Minato and not a day went by where he didn’t miss them, their wisdom, their cooking, their boisterous laughter) grew up stable enough. He grew up as well as you could expect while being alienated by an entire village. 

Sakura was gentle but fierce all the same with a protective streak a mile away. Being with the two boys caused her to gain confidence, a surety that was displayed by the way she now held herself, her expressions, mannerisms. Protective in the same way he knew Rin used to be after he exhausted himself from training his ninjutsu for too long. 

But Sasuke—Sasuke held eyes far too understanding, pessimistic. Sometimes, he felt ancient, the way he could pinpoint him with those Sharingan eyes of his and rip apart any attempt at distancing himself from the genin. 

They grew on him. Way too fucking much. 

You see, Kakashi and kids? Absolutely not. Kakashi didn’t _take care_ of literal preteens. That was a disaster waiting to happen and every one of his jounin coworkers had laughed in disbelief once they found out he was going to train the last Uchiha, the jinchuuriki _and_ an average civilian. 

(Sakura was anything but average, Sasuke was more than a child who had lost his entire family and Naruto had promise that went beyond his heritage and jinchuuriki status). 

Funnily enough, it took awhile for Kakashi to realise that there was more than meets the eyes to his genins than their surface personalities. And Kakashi had to remind himself that they were people, not ideas, not a mixture of his imagination and half washed away memories of his own Team 7 that he recited in his mind so he could _never_ forget them. (He didn’t even need to do that. The Sharingan made sure of it, amongst other things.) 

“Kakashi Hatake, report.” 

This room was different from the Hokage office. In the same building down the hall was a room for council meetings, not of the clan heads but the veterans, shinobi who had accumulated respect, honour and _authority._ To reach old age as a shinobi was a feat that was almost impossible. One had to be untouchable, so powerful that they had yet to perish under the battlefield—while others were simply lucky. The council of elders were the former. 

Some trained under the Second Hokage, the First Hokage, while their age left their bodies far more likely to perish, experience had sharpened, honed their senses, instincts and skill maneuvering in a political battlefield. 

Each wire was laid out in front of him, daring him to trip, to angle his feet a slightly wrong way and to face the scrutiny and coordinated attack in an Instant. As shinobi the older you became, the more shrewd and calculated you were. Morals worn down over time, exposure to so much war forcing them to accept that death, sacrifice was merely a way of life that you either accepted or became a victim of. 

“The mission started off as a simple escort C-rank but Team 7 was attacked by two rogue chuunin previously from Kirigakure.” Starting off slow, Kakashi forced his body to relax. Don’t show hesitation, show regret or any emotion on your face. Years of ANBU training made it easier. “I made the call to continue the mission as I believed it was important to see it through.” 

“You ignored protocol,” Mitokado Homura stated, haughtily. 

“I did.” 

“And did you not think of contacting Konoha for backup?” Danzo Shimura, with even one eye covered and half his body in bandages had a menacing aura on the likes of Orochimaru. Kakashi could smell the deceit. 

“I believed that I could handle the mission. I underestimated the level of shinobi Gatou—the man who had taken over Wave—sent for us. It seems Tazuna was more valuable than I had initially thought. I fought Zabuza Momochi and almost killed him too until his apprentice, disguised in the form of a Kiri Hunter-nin recovered him.” He went on to explain the training he had given the boys as well as Sakura and the elders seemed increasingly pleased. 

The Third Hokage's eye’s shone with mirth. “The Chidori? Is the Uchiha child to be your apprentice? Would you like for him to be your legacy?” 

“Yes, Lord Hokage,” he said. _No, what was he saying?_ “I see great potential in him and would like to cultivate his talents further. With his lightning affinity and Sharingan, he is learning and adapting quickly.” 

“As expected of an Uchiha,” Danzo said. “Interesting. He is getting stronger. Hatake, you must do well to inspire loyalty in him for Konohagakure as hard as you can. If another war is to break out, he would become an invaluable asset.” 

“Apologies, Kakashi. Do continue,” the Hokage said to him. 

“On the day of the attack at the bridge, Sasuke killed a rogue samurai that attempted to hold Tazuna’s family as hostage using the Chidori.” 

The Third Hokage seemed troubled. “Do you think he needs a few weeks off?” 

“Yes, his mental state is very tenuous right now. It would be best to allow him to collect his bearings before we partake in missions once again.” 

“That can be arranged.” 

As he explained his fight against Zabuza, the four elders listened with rapt attention and intense concentration. Once he ended his account of the situation, the room descended into contemplative silence. 

“The seal weakened,” he finally revealed, dreading this exact moment. He could ignore anything but that. “Nine Tails chakra has leaked out from him. Sakura Haruno witnessed it and described him to be covered in orange with red eyes and sharp fangs.” 

“What? How? Minato’s seal?” Each elder had a look of distress on their faces except for Danzo. 

“It seems to unlock during times of great emotional turmoil. Seeing Sasuke dead triggered an angry emotion and caused him to release his _other_ chakra. Human rationality in this mindset is nonexistent or at least very faint.” 

“Interesting. This never happened with Kushina,” Danzo intoned. 

“We know Minato’s seal was last minute in a desperate attempt to save the village,” Mitokado said. “It’s possible the seal isn’t as strong as it was originally intended had there been adequate preparation beforehand.” 

“I don’t think so,” The Hokage said. “Even on the brink of death, Minato was never anything but meticulous. Perhaps he wished for Naruto to be later capable of controlling the Nine Tails.” 

“A plausible explanation. Perhaps we should call in Jiraya to help him control the Nine Tails’ chakra. Not only would it make him stable, but a capable jinchuuriki would be a force to be reckoned with. Just look at Kumo with Killer Bee and that Two Tails.” 

To speak of Naruto as a weapon sent shivers down Kakashi’s spine. He didn’t like it. He hated it. For the first time in so long, Kakashi truly felt hatred. 

“Jiraya could also pass down his fuuinjutsu knowledge. It is part of his parents’ legacy after all. We don’t have enough sealing experts on the level of Kushina anymore.” 

“Do you think he could handle fuuinjutsu? He’s described to be a loudmouthed fool in the academy.” Koharu Utatane was wary, her wrinkled face pinched with dubiety. 

The Hokage laughed. “So was Kushina. You never know. The boy might surprise us.” 

“Do you think they are ready for the chuunin exams in a few months?” The Third Hokage asked him. He seemed to approve of Kakashi’s views and it made him feel proud of his position. Because he was no normal jounin. He was an _elite_ jounin. Trusted by the Hokage himself. No matter how much he had detested ANBU and the horrors he had to commit, it was a secret force of shinobi so highly skilled, respected and trusted. Anyone from ANBU received the highest praise as it was an open secret in the higher ranks that Konohagakure was as stable as it currently was because of the force. It was one of the most important honours someone could receive in Konohagakure. 

“My training with them has been thorough. All three could be promoted to chuunin if they wished. I do, however, believe at least sixth months more training is necessary for them to reach their peak at this age.”

“Even that civilian child? We allocated her to your team on a whim. How is she?” Utatane asked him. 

“Sakura is a chakra control prodigy. Her genjutsu with Sasuke is exceptional. She would do well in Medical Ninjutsu as well if she pleased. We still need to work on her taijutsu but even that is picked up faster than usual for a genin.” 

“Despite being of civilian descent, she is capable of this much already?” Danzo appeared intrigued. 

“How wonderful!” The Hokage said. “This is all thanks to you, no?” 

“A lot of this is natural talents but hard work too,” Kakashi said. “All she needs is an attentive teacher. If there’s anyone you deem fit to take her on as an apprentice once she is promoted to chuunin, she can be a trusted, key shinobi.” 

“And you believe they should not go to the chuunin exams?” Danzo’s eyes never left him. He forced himself not to swallow in anticipation. 

“They would do well but if I had more time to train them, they would undoubtedly win the tournaments as well.” 

“Many important figures from across Fire Country would place their interests on the last Uchiha and will visit Konoha for the opportunity to see him fight. What do we say when he doesn’t turn up?” 

Great. Now he had to think like them. “The next chuunin exams after the one held in Konoha will take place in Kumo, correct? Sasuke has a lightning affinity, just like Kumo’s speciality. Imagine a thirteen-year-old from Konoha beating everyone at a technique they all take pride in. This will show Konoha’s strength, versatility and establish Konoha’s next generation as promising shinobi.” 

“Very good idea. But do you think placing Sasuke in forgein territory when Kumo is known to have experimented and stolen bloodlines is a sensible choice? Do you think he should have such a huge target placed on his back already at a young age? You know how despicable they were when kidnapping the Hyuuga Heiress.” 

“He isn’t that young, Hiruzen,” Danzo said. “You know that during the third war, shinobi younger than Uchiha were placed on the frontlines.” 

“And that is one of my many regrets,” The Third Hokage said. “If I can protect the youth for any longer I would do so. The third war was a dark time that I would like to never happen again. Konoha was created for brighter futures for children. That was Hashirama Senju’s dream—a place where younger brothers and sisters do not die on the battlefield.” 

“We will decide for Team 7 when the examinations come around. Until then, continue training the trio to the best of your ability, Kakashi. You have done a splendid job so far. I knew it was right for me to place you as a sensei and you went even further than my expectations. You look proud of them. One of the most accomplished feelings is watching your students rise to heights never seen before.” 

And, _oh._

That feeling in his chest when Sasuke showed him the Chidori, staring him down with determination and triumph. That feeling when Sakura finished the available genjutsu scrolls for genin. That feeling when Naruto mastered the three wind ninjutsu attacks he assigned him to learn. 

Pride. 

He was proud of them. His kids, who everyone looked down on, who didn’t have it easy from the beginning, who still surged forward. 

They reignited his passion and capacity to _care_ more than a brief wave of sadness or contentment; they made him feel less than a mask, an animal, an irredeemable killer. Oh, he was still the hound on a tight leash right under the Hokage’s watchful gaze, but with Team 7 he was _more_ than that. 

He was a sensei—a lousy, neglectful, mess of a sensei but a sensei all the same. 

Big hopes, ambitions, goals—it all depended on him and his teachings. Would he prepare them enough for the horrors they would have to witness, worse than the death of an enemy with a bleeding heart? 

Sasuke’s hoarse voice yelling about how he would never understand his burden poked at his thoughts. 

In every way but emotional, Kakashi was attentive. He failed to consider their emotional needs, training them based on how useful they would become to the village. He ignored Sakura’s bad eating habits and chalked it up to fad diets that kunoichi in training her age went through, he ignored Naruto’s desperate hope for undivided attention and he ignored just _how_ revenge driven Sasuke was, just how bad the massacre had affected him mentally. Sasuke wasn’t fit for shinobi work, not with a psyche like that. Kakashi would have assumed it was Naruto who would have been the self sacrificial type. 

And for the first time in his life, Kakashi didn’t know what to do. 

When everyone he cared about died, he had ANBU, the village to offer his life for. When he was bored or found life repetitive, he would read books of every genre, indulge himself until he reached a state of numbness. Kakashi always tried to find himself a temporary purpose to keep himself grounded. It was funny how he questioned Sasuke about his own purpose and goals when Kakashi had none beyond protecting Konohagakure. But now, when Team 7, hurt and aching, traumatised and lost, needed the comfort and guidance of a sensei, he was useless. 

He would think, long and hard about his teaching process, beat himself up over it but eventually get up again and try to mend his past mistakes. 

Just like he always did. 

But, man, _feelings_. Kakashi didn’t _do_ feelings. 

Just like pulling down his mask, he had to make an exception for his kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I'm kinda nervous over it because Big Deviations but I hope it was okay? It was a little hard for me to write for some reason because my brain just wasn’t working and I find writing canon hard buuuuuut Wave is over and canon divergence shall begin! I’m really excited for this because things will start to chaaaange now that I’ve settled in <3
> 
> Also I love Kakashi so much… He’s Trying guys, promise I’m not intentionally being mean to him but he really has no idea what he’s doing. Emotionally stunted sexy mask man.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags for any content warnings! While this story does get quite dark, ultimately it’s about Sasuke’s growth as a person, how the massacre and Itachi’s actions affected him. His PTSD is based off my own, so in a way it is a vent fic. People react to trauma differently, this is just my own interpretation.
> 
> It is also an AU, there’s gonna be a lot of differences for some character backstories, the overall aliens/Kaguya stuff is scrapped. Canon divergence and all that so just a heads up!
> 
> Updates will be either once or twice a month but I do show my progress a lot on my twitter so if you want to find me for anything I’m over at @sasuterasu


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